The One Where They Try To Live Happily Ever After
by Oldreruns
Summary: A Mondler canon series. Monica & Chandler have moved to the suburbs with the twins. What will their future hold as we explore their life after the show ends. Everything happens after the last episode of the series. Will remain ongoing. Chapters to come once or twice a month, when possible. Humor/Heart. As always, thanks for reading.
1. Happy

**Prologue**

**Happy**

Monica Bing was very tired.

These last few weeks, she has been feeling every bit of her eighty-nine years. Every day it seemed the aches grew exponentially as her strength waned earlier and earlier each evening. Today, though, was the worst of them. Her legs felt like stone; heavy and uncompromising. Moving around the house became such a difficult chore, that she decided to stop fighting what her body was telling her and planted herself on the couch for the rest of the day. She napped intermittently, all afternoon, yet she still felt as if she needed to close her eyes and rest. All evening she has felt a constant chill that sent shivers across her shoulders. No matter what she did, she could not stay warm; needing a shawl around her shoulders and a blanket over her legs, as she sipped her hot tea. She was not very hungry today and ate sparingly. Chandler had brought her over some graham crackers to nibble on when he refilled her tea cup, insisting she try to get something in her stomach before bed.

She did not like feeling this way; weak, tired, stiff, cold, burdensome. Up until recently, she was a rather active octogenarian. She still cooked meals and performed light housekeeping duties, which she liked to do despite the fact that Chandler finally got her to accept help. Monica had been so self-sufficient all her life, that no one could believe that she had allowed him to hire a cleaning service. She used her free time to read and she took walks. She played with her great-grandchildren, and just five short years ago, she took her last plane ride to Bermuda for a week at the beach with her family.

She laughed a bit to herself, _"Where did that spry woman of eighty-four go? Hell, where did that girl of twenty-four go? I'd like to get some of those years back." _

Monica looked down at her hands, inspecting all that time had wrought on her once supple, smooth skin. She let her fingers travel along the length of each arm, in search of some familiar muscle tone to prove to herself that she was still the same woman. She wanted to feel something that she carried with her through all these years and held onto. Monica folded her hands in her lap and sat back, allowing the couch cushions to gently support her weight as she took a moment to rest.

Lately, one of her children or grandchildren would come to the house every day. She pondered if it was because they have seen how tired she has been or if they still worry about their parents being alone in this big house. She assumed that is why Erica left the assisted living brochures on her coffee table last year. Her daughter no doubt hoped for them to look at them and find some sense of clarity about how they chose to live during the twilight of their lives. All of her children worried they could no longer take care of themselves or their home. She was grateful when the kids finally stopped bringing it up once she and Chandler agreed to move their bedroom down to the first floor. She didn't care if her family thought it was too much house for two old people to maintain. She was not going to leave. This was her home. Where she raised her children. Where she lived more than half of her life. Where she had enough room to fit her entire family on Thanksgiving or Christmas. Nothing was going to take away her ability to host. Not time, age or her own children.

"_Don't they know who I am? I am Monica Geller-Bing. I don't do weakness. I don't need help. I don't need assistance. I raised four children and took two of them in when they needed help raising their own kids. I planned and organized seven weddings. I have hosted over sixty years of holidays and parties; I booked family vacations; I took care of funeral arrangements for half a dozen people. I get things done. I don't need things done for me!"_

She was feeling particularly nostalgic earlier today and asked her son Daniel, who apparently had been the designated visitor of the day, to fetch some of the family photo albums from the bookshelf. A few of those albums, which have been waiting more than a decade to be adored again, were now stacked up on the coffee table. Others were in a pile on the couch next to her. Their pages already felt the tender touch of her fingers as she ran them over the protective clear plastic pockets. Tracing each figure in each photo, as if this tactile sensation would wash her frail body away and sweep her back into the past, so she could stand there once again and savor every detail of every day that is now long gone.

Monica sipped her evening tea and looked over at her husband, who, as usual, was dozing on his recliner with the TV on. She smiled in his direction. Chandler seemed to be taking to his old age better than her recently. His wit was still very sharp, and still so very embarrassing. He moved around much better than you would think a ninety-year old man could. When he had turned seventy, he bought himself a bicycle. He read in some magazine or book at the time, that a daily bike ride for seniors would keep them fit and was easier on the joints than walking. He took it very seriously and researched bicycles for weeks, trying to find the perfect one for his needs. Finally, once he made his selection and picked it up from the local shop, he began riding, weather permitting, every day. He still rides, despite the protests from their children, afraid he could fall and hurt himself. To assuage their fears, he purchased an adult tricycle a few years ago. He had joked that next, his children would buy him a wagon to sit in as they took turns pulling him around the neighborhood. He loved to play the indignant victim with his children, seeing them backtrack and trip over their own tongues as they tried to explain themselves without inadvertently offending him. Just like Monica had done to him so many times over the years. That nervous fumble to find the right words was just one of many traits they shared with their father. She laughed to herself, thinking about how much of his personality had rubbed off on their children. She had hoped to have at least one little Monica clone among the group. Someone with her sense of order and with her exuberance to be in charge, but for the most part, all she could see in her kids was Chandler.

She returned her attention to the photo album in her lap. She opened the cover and smiled. Erica and Jack's graduation party. Nearly forty years ago. She gently shook her head, wondering where all that time had gone. Instead of renting out a banquet hall at a local venue, they opted to have it in the backyard of their home. It was Erica's idea. She was keenly aware that her time living in their home was coming to an end and wanted to savor every moment. They decorated the night before. Just Monica and her two daughters. When her girls were teenagers, every day seemed rife with confrontations and arguments. Slammed doors and declarations of frustration was the only way the three of them seemed to be able to communicate back then.

_"Mothers and daughters."_

she remembered how worried she was that the bond between her and her daughters may have permanently fractured as it dissolved into sharp words and dismissive attitudes. Yet, that night before the party, for the first time in what felt like ages, she had her girls back. The doting daughters who were best friends and hung on Monica's every word. That night, they laughed, made fun of boys, talked about dating and the future, and they shared stories from the past and embraced each other with tearful hugs.

She turned the page, ready to view another set of photos from that night. The first one was of Erica, Jack and a group of their friends. Eight or nine teenagers who thought they were more than ready for adulthood. Having no clue what the next chapter of their lives would hold. Wide smiles, full of potential, hormones, and invincibility. She glanced at the next photo on the other page; Monica, Chandler and her own gang of friends. The photo purposely placed in juxtaposition with the one of her children. There they all were, perhaps a little older, a little greyer, a little wearier. Looking at herself, Monica finds it hard to believe that she felt so old back then, but now, as she studies her own face in the photo, all she can think about is how young she was.

_"If you thought you were old then Mrs. Bing, I hate to have you see me now."_

She traced her finger around the faces of the people in the photo. She stops at the first one. Joey, always so happy when they could all get together. He never liked the change in their dynamic, as the entire group transitioned from spending time with friends to raising families. Over the years, the ability to get all of them together in one place at the same time dwindled. People moved further apart, they had babies. Their babies had babies. It became too hard to organize a busy life of work, family and home, while also trying to hold on to each other like they used to.

It was at this very party that Joey sprung his masterplan on them. Throughout the years, people thought Joe was dumb; Chandler knew that it bothered him, even when Joey would laugh it off or try to ignore it. Chandler used to tell him, "You can't judge people based on the things they don't know. If you do that, you'd think everyone was stupid."

No, Joey wasn't stupid. Naïve, childlike, maybe a little uneducated about a number of topics; but he had good instincts and he was shrewd. He knew once everyone's kids started leaving home for college it would open up more free time for his friends. Armed with that knowledge, he purchased a beach house on Long Island and offered keys to everyone.

"I bought it for all of us! This way, everyone can use it whenever they want. I have one rule though. We all need to promise to get together once a year, like the old times. Wait! Also, no one have sex in the hot tub. Oh, and if I leave food there, don't throw it out. I'm coming back for it. Okay, so that's three rules."

That night, he succeeded in forcing everyone to commit to spending at least one long weekend every summer there, together as a group. And for the most part, everyone did.

Joey died eighteen years later.

Monica recalls one evening, a few weeks after he had gone, when she found Chandler crying at the kitchen counter. She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his back in an attempt to comfort him, assuming he was still working through his grief. She was surprised when he turned around, a stunned, half-smile on his face and an open envelope with some forms in his hands.

"Monica, look what he did. Look what he did for Jack. He never told me he was planning to do this. I can't even thank him. He did this wonderful thing and I can't even call him to thank him."

His eyes brimming with tears as Monica studied the financial forms that were contained in the letter. They held each other for most of that night, crying and celebrating the generosity of their friend. Whom they both missed dearly.

She continued moving her finger across the photo, stopping once it brushed over the image of Phoebe. She probably had the most energy out of them all the night of the party. She danced, laughed the loudest, told the most embarrassing stories.

"Remember when we stayed on the balcony all night just to see George Stephanopoulos naked?"

She pushed everyone to let loose.

"I love drunk Monica!"

She spread her infectious laughter throughout the entire yard as she poured round after round of margaritas.

As Monica prepared to consume her third drink that night, she was silently appreciative that Chandler convinced her to hire a host and servers for the party. She knew that soon enough, she would be in no condition to run it herself.

Over the years, Phoebe was the one Monica and Chandler lost touch with the most. It was no one's fault. Just one of those things that happens when people get older. Once she and Mike had their two daughters, they started spending holidays with his parents. Chandler would encourage Monica to travel back to Manhattan for a mini-reunion with Phoebe and Rachel as often as she could, but once they had all four kids and were outnumbered, it became harder to find time for those social excursions.

Phoebe and Mike would come to visit them, mostly in the summer, with their daughters in tow. Chandler referred to the Hannigan girls as "The Coven." Both daughters dressed, looked, and talked exactly like Phoebe. Sometimes, she would insinuate that her daughters were just her reincarnated spirit, living in two separate bodies. Chandler would become exasperated at Phoebe's insistence that it was so.

"Don't you need to die for that to happen first?"

But she would ignore him, and carry on about how Phoebe Buffay would live forever. Her spirit passed down from daughter to daughter.

Monica laughed at the memory to herself.

_"I guess, in a way you did. Your granddaughter was telling people her name was Regina Phalange almost as soon as she could talk." _

Phoebe passed away a little over twelve years ago, outliving Mike by a three. Monica remembers the funeral service; virtual reality glasses, fog machines, a drummer and everyone had to wear a feather boa. Phoebe's last manipulation to make everyone look foolish.

Monica focused her gaze now on Ross and Rachel. Ross, who finally got it right the fourth time when he and Rachel were married. Leading up to the wedding he would harp on the fact that if Rachel had just gone along with him and if they never filed for divorce after Vegas, that they could have avoided all of this hassle.

"We'd already be married!"

"But then, I wouldn't get to have a wedding! My wedding! Ross, do you understand why that is important!"

They bickered the entire time, up to and including at the rehearsal dinner.

It wasn't until the reception for their wedding was almost over that it occurred to Monica; her and Rachel were now sisters. Tears formed around the corners of her eyes as she stood up from the table abruptly, startling Chandler, who thought something was wrong. She darted through the room and pulled Rachel aside, frantically sharing her new revelation. Large, happy tears began to stream down their cheeks as their bewildered husbands closed in. Ross, always quick to suffer a fit of jealousy, complained.

"Sure, we get married and nothing, but this you cry about?"

Monica took that as a personal victory over her brother.

Ross and Rachel had one more child, a boy that they named after Rachel's father. They also moved back to Long Island when Ross got a job running the paleontology department at Stonybrook University. Rachel commuted to the city for her job, which ended up causing some friction in their marriage for a few years. Ross never felt anyone else's job was as important as his own, and his wife was no exception. He couldn't understand why she had not simply quit and raised their children, or, at the very least, tried to find a different job closer to home.

During that time, Rachel would confide in Monica. Confessing all her doubts, fears, and concerns about their marriage. For a brief time, she was sure her brother was heading for yet another divorce. Then, one day, the fighting was over. Rachel and Ross figured it out. The couple who seemed perpetually driven towards disharmony, had compromised and reconciled. It wasn't until years later that Monica learned Chandler had intervened. When Rachel told her what he had done, it led Monica to discover that over the years, Chandler reached out and secretly counseled the others, helping them solve problems. In all that time, he never brought attention to it. Never sought recognition. She wondered if he had ever realized what he was doing in those days when he would speak to his friends. Underestimating his own wisdom.

Ross died almost fifteen years ago.

Monica remembers spending more than two weeks with Rachel after he died. She stayed with her at her home on Long Island. She ended up taking care of all the funeral arrangements. It was the hardest thing she ever had to do. She needed to be her organized, high energy, take charge self at the same time that she was mourning her brother. Despite all their differences and skirmishes throughout their lives, Ross was more than just a sibling, he was her friend. He was her very first friend. Long ago she had learned to cherish the fact that he was a constant presence in her daily life.

After that, her and Rachel spoke every day. Even if it was just for a few minutes to discuss a TV show, or a grandchild's latest accomplishment. They would occasionally meet for dinner and spend a night in the other's guest room. It was the closest they ever got to being the friends that they were when they were roommates in Apartment 20 on Bedford Street. They used to joke about becoming the Golden Girls, how they would soon spend their eighties together, like Blanche, Betty and Rose. Chandler told them he would only play if he could be Sophia.

Rachel lived on for another eleven years before she passed away.

She left a giant hole in Monica's heart. Monica was very sad for a long time. She missed her friend dearly, and missed the connection they had rediscovered. It wasn't until her daughters began calling her every day that she was able to move on. During their last trip to Bermuda she found out that Chandler had spoken to the girls, explaining how important it would be for them to call and speak with Monica on a nightly basis. Just another one of those undisclosed good deeds by her husband. He knew his wife was in pain, and that he could never be a proper substitute for Rachel, but figured, maybe his daughters could.

Monica looked over at her dozing husband again. She lifted the remote and turned off the TV. His eyes opened to half-mast.

"I was watching that."

She laughed and continued sipping her tea. He took his phone to turn the tv back on. She hated that their grandson keeps Chandler up on new technology. He showed Chandler how to run all the electronics in the entire house from that phone. He spent a week just turning lights on and off from his easy chair.

She closed the photo album and placed it on the couch. She lifted a cracker and bit off a small piece as she reached for the next book. She smiled at the photo on the cover. It was from their wedding. Ever since she was a child, Monica dreamed about living a life of love, family and happiness. She never could have known the package that those dreams would come in. Falling in love with her best friend, adoption, living outside the city; the life she had eventually lived was nothing like the one she imagined in her childhood fantasies.

_"This turned out a bit better."_

She laughed again. As she looked back, she realized that her entire life seems to be filled with laughter. Even despite some dark times, which felt like they would swallow them up whole. Those sad memories fade as life shrinks, and now all she can remember are the days when her entire family would be sitting around the dinner table for a holiday meal. Children, grandchildren, and her husband, laughing, loving, everyone happy.

"Chandler. Honey. You did good."

"What Mon?"

Monica started to lift the blanket off her legs. "You did good on your promise. You made me very happy."

Chandler closed his eyes again, and mumbled sleepily. "That's good dear, because my warranty expired a long time ago. You definitely are not getting your money back."

She tried to stifle another laugh. Something she had done countless times before.

"No, seriously. I look at everything, all those years, and I think about what you said. How you promised to make me happy. You did. I don't think anyone could have had a better life than what you gave me. I hope I've told you that enough throughout the years."

Chandler opened his eyes and turned his head so he could look at his wife.

"Well, Mon, you made it easy. You took care of all of us."

"Sweetie, you took care of me. In a way no one else ever could."

She brushed a stray tear from her cheek and looked down at a flier that had come in the mail earlier that day.

"The Lion's Club is hosting a dinner and a dance for seniors in a couple of weeks. I think we should go."

Chandler, picked up his phone and started using it to change channels rapidly on the television. "Even at a senior night we'd be the oldest ones there. I think we qualify as super seniors. Do they have a dinner for those?"

Monica scoffed. "You don't know that. Why don't we go? I'd like to try and get out of the house more anyway. Besides, we could show those young seventy year old kids how it is done."

Chandler turned to look at her again and flashed her a sly smile. "Mon, are you asking me out on a date? Because, I don't know if I can put out like I used to."

She lifted herself up from the couch slowly and made her way over to her husband to kiss him on the head. "There's a lot of stuff you can't do like you used to. But, sure. I'm asking you out on a date." Monica rested her hand on his arm.

Chandler smiled, still made content by the touch of his wife after all these years. "Well, we're already outdated models, we might as well be out dating. Sure, let's go. Maybe I'll even dance with you if they play a slow song." He put his hand over hers and gave her a sympathetic smile. "You look tired. Why don't you go to bed. Me or one of the kids can get this cleaned up tomorrow."

"Well, don't leave the crackers or the tea out overnight, okay?" Chandler nodded in submission. "Thank you. I love you Chandler."

"I love you too Monica."

Monica shuffled down the hallway and into her bedroom. She gingerly changed into her night dress, climbed under the covers, closed her eyes, and fell asleep for the very last time.

* * *

Chandler Bing and his daughter Erica were standing side-by-side, cleaning up dishes in the sink together. Chandler initially had started rinsing off the plates, but Erica insisted he was doing it wrong and relegated him to drying duty. She wouldn't even let him put the dishes back in the cabinets because she was certain he would mess up the order. She already had to move the coffee mugs back to where her mother always kept them. Erica was sure, that if she left her father alone for an entire day, he would have the whole house in disarray.

Chandler looked over at his eldest daughter, who just got finished explaining to him that the towel he was using was not for drying dishes but was a seasonal decoration.

_"Monica, she is just like you." _

Chandler no longer has an internal thought without addressing his wife. It has been two weeks since she he said his last goodbye to her, and he still needed to talk to her. He still needed to feel connected to Monica in some way.

Erica has been coming over every night for dinner these last two weeks. She was worried about her father. Everyone she knew thought that her parents' marriage was the gold standard. She did as well. She knew that they had fights and heated disagreements, but they never let those problems linger and fester into resentment and acrimony. They made each other laugh. They shared private moments together, even well into their senior years, holding hands, whispering and smiling as they shared gentle touches and knowing glances. They had their own language that they spoke without ever using words. They were never bored of being around each other. Now, with her mother gone, she hated to think of her father being lonely and sad.

"You know. I can wash my own dishes. I am ninety years old. I've washed things before."

"What you were just doing was not what anyone would call washing. Least of all Mom."

Erica's breath caught in her throat. It was so easy to talk about her mother as if she were just in the other room. But knowing that she wasn't sent a sharp pain through her chest which forced her to stop what she was doing and bring her hand to her chin.

Chandler put his arm around his daughter's shoulder and hugs her.

"It's okay to miss her. You're allowed to still feel sad about it. She would probably be pretty mad at you if you weren't. She liked when people cried over her. She was kind of weird like that."

Erica looked up at her father with tears in her eyes.

"Dad. I'm supposed to be over here taking care of you. Making sure you aren't sad. You're not supposed to be taking care of me. You've done that enough."

Chandler laughed. "You're my kid. And you never stop taking care of your kids. No matter how old you are and no matter how old they are. There is no goal line with parenthood. You don't get to walk away. You will always be my child and I will always worry about you, even when I know I don't have to."

Erica wiped at her cheek and hugged her father.

"Dad. I love you. You're the best man I have ever known."

Chandler rested his chin on Erica's head.

"Well, You're mother was the best person you ever knew. Never forget that. She was the best person any of us will ever know. I'm not who I am if not for your mother. She is the reason I became the man I was supposed to be. It was all her."

Erica pulled back and smiled.

"I know Dad. I know."

Chandler wiped his eyes just as a tear was beginning to form around the edges.

"Now will you get out of here and go tend to your own family. I'm okay. I promise."

Erica turned off the water in the sink and leaned up against the counter.

"Are you sure? Because I can sleep here. You have like three guest rooms. I can make you breakfast and make sure you have some clean sheets."

Chandler laughed again. He heard his wife through his daughter's words.

"No, I'm good honey. I kind of want to be alone for a little while anyway. I love you, thanks for everything."

Reluctantly, Erica packed up her purse, grabbed her coat, kissed her father on the cheek and left for the night. Asking him if he was sure the entire time. Once she left the house, Chandler made his way into the living room.

"Oh Mon, what did you do to her. She is just like you. You know she is going to turn her own granddaughter into you. They already named her after you. I guess she was cursed from the start."

Chandler looked down at his feet as he remembered the day Monica found out her first great grandchild would have her name. She cried when she finally got to hold little Monica Geller Simmons. She was speechless. Through the years, It seemed no matter how much her family told her they loved her, it took gestures like that for her to truly understand how important she was to everyone.

Chandler eased himself down on the couch. He sat, quiet and alone, for what felt like a long time in the darkened room. Not interested in TV, not ready to go to sleep. He just moved his eyes around the room. The house seemed so empty to him now. It was just missing one person, but that person was everywhere. She was everything.

He looked down at the coffee table and spied the slip of paper that Monica had shown him the night she died.

"The Lions Club Senior Dinner"

"Another weekend plan not working out for us, huh Mon?" He chuckled to himself as he thought about all the times they tried to make plans to get away together, and how horribly wrong some of them had gone.

Suddenly, Chandler began to feel something similar to indigestion. He thought about getting a drink of water and worried he might be experiencing some acid reflux. Before he could stand, his breath shortened and a dull throbbing sensation shot up his arm. Chandler reached up to try and take his pulse, but the strength to lift his fingers seemed to have escaped him. He blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to catch his breath, but his chest started to feel like iron. Each time he tried to breathe was more difficult than the last. He started to feel an inviting drowsiness which beckoned him to close his eyes and rest for a while.

Oddly, he took a moment to allow a smile to spread across his lips. Without knowing how or why, he realized what was happening, and it allowed a peaceful ease to wash over him. He lifted his right arm and pushed through the haziness that was his vision and grabbed a framed photo from the end table next to him. He pulled it to his chest and looked down to make eye contact with Monica one last time. His eyes closed as the world around him started to go black.

_"Ha, okay…all right. I can't believe you're still telling me what to do. I can't wait to see you. It's been a really long two weeks. I guess….I guess we're going to have that date after all. Let's hope they play something slow that we can dance to."_

* * *

A/N – Hello, if you are reading this than you got to the end of my obnoxiously long first chapter to my new story in my ongoing Mondler series. I know it is a pretty stupid thing to do, trying to write three stories at the same time, but in my defense, I am a pretty stupid person. I promise though, I will be keeping up with all three currently running stories for anyone who is invested in them. I have too many ideas about what I want to do to abandon anything.

This is going to be all about Monica and Chandler after the final episode of the show. It will be canon compliant but since there are no episodes to tell me what happens, I'll be making most of it up. It will probably be the longest story I ever do, and it may never end.

I had this crazy idea to write the end of their story first, but as for the rest of this, I haven't decided if I will go chronologically or just bounce around the timeline. If anyone is still reading this and has a preference, I'd love to hear it.

For this chapter I based Chandler's active senior life on a man my aunt lives with who is 93 and still rides a bike every day. His speech is a bit slow and he forgets a name or two here and there, but for 93 he is in pretty good shape. I used June Carter and Johnny Cash as inspiration for how close to each other they died. Monica, looking through her photo albums is based on an uncle of mine, who did exactly that, looked through pages of memories, went to sleep, and never woke up. As if he knew it was his last day.

I might share where some of my inspirations came from in these author notes which will be different from how I do the other two stories. Thanks again for taking the time to read and indulging me.


	2. The First Night

**Part 1**

**The First Night**

It is 3am and Chandler is certain he has made a huge mistake.

His intentions were pure. He wanted to give Monica a break, even if just for one night. Ever since they brought the twins home from the hospital, Monica took the lead, seeing to all their needs and coordinating every task. She consistently beat him into the spare bedroom whenever one of the babies would begin to stir. When the twins were asleep, wherever she was, the portable baby monitor followed. Even when she would walk over to Joey's apartment across the hall just to quickly let Chandler know dinner was ready; that monitor was held tight in her grasp.

Chandler didn't mind being second-in-command when it came to the twins. The way he saw it, he was already second-in-command when it comes to everything else in his life with Monica; what's one more thing? Besides, he knew that she was better prepared to take care of the twins than he was. Not only was she a natural at motherhood, she had all that practical experience from all the times she helped Ross with Ben and Rachel with Emma. She read all the baby books she could find, most of them twice. She created color-coded cross-referencing charts, which she tried in vain to explain to her husband.

"Chandler, it's easy: if Erica isn't giving you a burp, then you go to the green sheet in the Erica folder. Find the style of burping you are currently trying here along the top and the amount of food she ate down here on the side. When you connect the two you find this box with the page numbers for these three books, listing all the other burping techniques that are optimal for that situation. Then you mark down which one worked with the date and time on this pink sheet so we can reference it the next time. I don't know how much simpler it could be."

She might as well have been speaking a foreign language to him.

It certainly seemed like Monica had already mastered everything when it came to the twins. Feedings, diapering, swaddling; there wasn't anything she couldn't do. She quickly had everything down to a tight routine. Every three-and-a-half hours, night or day, she would prepare two new bottles of formula and bring them into their room. Jack, normally the first to stir, would get a quick diaper change and then a feeding. She would burp him, change him again and then place him in the mechanical baby swing at the lowest setting, twisting the musical mobile so it would play its gentle lullaby. While Jack was slowly swaying, lulled into a stupor from a belly full of formula, it would be Erica's turn for a clean diaper and a bottle.

Monica was also a natural with soothing her children. She would coo, make exaggerated faces, and talk to both babies at every step. She would smother them with kisses and marvel at their tiny hands and feet. Soon enough, it would be time to put them back down. One last diaper check, a perfect swaddle in their sleep sack, and back to the crib for another three or four hour nap. In Chandler's eyes, it was a forty-five-minute masterpiece. Like a perfectly choreographed ballet, an expertly conducted orchestra, and a highly skilled pit crew at the Indy 500, all wrapped up in one amazing woman.

Chandler would be there with her the entire time, handing over a clean diaper or a burping cloth on command. Baby powder, gauze, Vaseline, a clean outfit, anything Monica requested he would pull out from the changing table like a surgical assistant. Most of the time, if the babies were being fussy, he would hold one of the twins while Monica tended to the other one. Over the course of the entire first week while they still lived in the apartment, they worked seamlessly as a team.

Monica would whisper gleefully, "We are so winning at taking care of babies." as she closed their bedroom door behind them.

In quiet moments, mostly late at night, when they both were tired and holding their children, they would look at each other, smile and share this unspoken, mutual acknowledgment of how lucky they were. How extremely grateful they felt to be cradling these two babies in their arms. This afternoon, when they finally arrived at the house, and after the last of the movers had gone, it dawned on them that this was it. They were entering the next phase of their lives. It was a long and emotionally draining road getting to this point; filled with doubts and fears that they only shared with each other. Many times, they worried this would never happen for them. That they would never get here. But now, those nights that were filled with such dread have mostly faded away. They weren't those scared people anymore. They had their children; they had their new home and they had each other. They were parents. They were a family. They were whole.

Monica didn't skip a beat once they got into the new house. With the babies asleep in their room, she began breaking down boxes of kitchenware and organizing the drawers and cabinets; baby monitor never too far from her hands. Chandler took this time to go upstairs and make up their bed, he put some clothes for the next few days in the dresser and set up some towels in the bathroom. When he was finished, he walked over to the nursery to check on the twins.

He stopped short of entering and stood at the doorway, almost fearful that if he moved in any closer, he would disturb their sleep. They had the room painted a pretty shade of yellow. There was a cherry wood crib with a divider in the middle, and a matching changing table with some shelves attached. Two cushioned rocking chairs with ottomans for those nights both parents would have to settle down with a fussy baby. The mechanical swing and the vibrating chair settled against the wall. There were several stuffed animals, lined up on two shelves that were hung from the wall, including two Hugsy penguins which were gifts from their Uncle Joey. The walls were adorned with decals of classic Winnie the Pooh characters, Monica picked them out of a catalog, preferring the look of the original character designs. It was important to her that the nursery was ready before they moved in, so throughout the week Ross had helped them with the painting and furniture assembly. As Chandler looked around the room, he couldn't help but feel as though everything was falling into place.

He made his way back downstairs to the kitchen, with thoughts of grabbing some food from a local take-out place for a late supper. As he turned the corner, before he could say anything, he found Monica, at the kitchen table, her head down on her arms, fast asleep. Chandler was used to his wife burning the candle at both ends, but now, between the babies and the move, he imagines it must have simply overwhelmed her to keep up at her usual pace. Chandler checked the time. It was just after eight. He quickly calculated that he had a little over two hours to go before the twins would wake up, looking for a late supper of their own. Chandler crept up to his sleeping wife and pried the baby monitor from her hand. She stirred for a moment and opened her eyes.

"Mon, you're exhausted. Why don't you go to bed? We can finish up tomorrow."

"I just need to rest my eyes for a few minutes." Before she could say anything else, she fell back asleep.

"Why don't you rest them in the bedroom."

Chandler crouched down and leaned his wife's body into him. As he pulled the chair out, he hooked one arm underneath her thighs and the other around her shoulders. Monica instinctively nestled herself against her husband's chest as he lifted her from the chair. He carried her out of the kitchen and up the stairs to their bedroom. Once he entered the room, he gently laid her down on the bed. He pulled the covers up over her shoulders and placed a kiss on her cheek. Monica made some unintelligible protest but was soon breathing evenly and letting out soft, almost inaudible snores. Chandler looked back at her one more time and closed the door.

_"Not how I wanted to celebrate our first night in the new house, but it'll have to do."_

Chandler walked over to one of the spare bedrooms and rustled around in some of the unopened boxes. He dug out a plain white sheet, a fleece blanket and a pillow. He made his way downstairs and set himself up a makeshift bed on the couch in the den. He then entered the kitchen to retrieve the baby monitor and grab a slice of cold pizza from the fridge that he quickly devoured. When he finished eating, he decided to set his watch alarm for 10pm. He laid down on the couch, turned up the monitor, and, not ready to fall asleep, grabbed his book from the end table.

* * *

His first visit of the night with the twins went well. He was surprised at how much he must have absorbed from watching Monica all week. Chandler was already awake when the alarm on his watch went off and had previously set up the baby bottles with water at room temperature like the books told him too.

_"I can't believe I remember something from a baby book! I have to tell Monica tomorrow morning."_

He added the powdered formula and shook the bottles to mix it in and then brought them upstairs. He took turns with the twins and tried to talk as softly as he could. He was determined not to wake Monica up. After about an hour he was done and the babies were back asleep. He did a little victory dance in the hallway and then made his way back to the den.

"This is a piece of cake. I don't know why people complain about babies so much."

After setting up some new bottles with water he set his alarm for 2:30am and laid down on the couch to try and get some sleep, still giddy from his victorious first time alone caring for the twins.

* * *

Chandler awoke to what sounded like a cat meowing. He rolled over, deciding to ignore it while internally noting that he was missing the din of the city at night that would mask these solitary sounds that could puncture a peaceful slumber. He tried to go back to sleep but the noises became louder, like a siren wailing. Suddenly, he sprung up, realizing it was the twins crying over the monitor.

"Oh crap!"

He got up from the couch and moved as quickly as he could up the stairs and into the nursery. Once he entered, he rushed over to the crib to find both babies sobbing and fussing as they kicked their legs. Chandler noticed that Jack had gotten his arm out of the swaddle and was flailing it around, smacking himself in the head. He looked over at Erica, who had spit up all over her side of the crib, which soaked the mattress with a milk-like substance.

He quickly picked up Erica first. He took off her clothes and dropped them in the laundry basket, cleaned her face and changed her diaper. He then attempted to rock her back to sleep. She wasn't making it easy, still sobbing and cranky.

"I know baby girl, how about we sit in the swing."

He brought her over to the mechanical swing and set her up hoping the rocking would help. She got a little quieter, but was still fussing about.

"What is it guys? Are you hungry?"

Chandler assumed they must need a bottle, realizing that they have been getting fed almost every time they woke up. He instinctively went to grab a bottle from the changing table, before it registered with him that nothing was there since he had not prepared the formula before he came upstairs. He looked up and shook his head.

"I'll be right back guys."

Just as he turned to go back downstairs, Jack began wailing louder than Chandler had ever heard before. He quickly snatched him up while also attempting to make baby talk with Erica, since Jack's cries seemed to have disturbed her from the lull of the swing. Both babies were now crying uncontrollably. He placed Jack on the changing table and removed his diaper as quickly as he could.

"Okay buddy, lets get you cleaned up and then I'll feed you guys."

He looked down at Jack and rolled his eyes, remembering that he had to replace the gauze that was covering him as he still recovered from his circumcision.

"No one ever warned me that I would have to dress an open wound every time I changed you Jack."

Chandler was able to get Jack changed rather quickly, and after snapping up his onesie, he placed him in the vibrating chair.

"Okay, look guys. You have to be quiet. Mommy is sleeping and Daddy is about to have a full on panic attack. If I start panicking then I start making bad jokes and sweating and nobody wants that. Just wait here so I can get your bottles? Deal?"

To Chandler's surprise, it seemed like that worked as both babies began to quiet down. He could swear he detected sympathy in their eyes as they stared in his direction.

"Great. Even babies take pity on me."

* * *

Chandler returned quickly with freshly made formula, and it looked like he was just in time, as he could see Jack's face getting red as he prepared himself for another bout of wailing. He quickly snatched him from the chair and stuffed the nipple of the bottle in his mouth, which seemed to satisfy him as he calmed down and his eyes closed as he enjoyed the late night feeding. Once Jack was done with the bottle, Chandler put him back in the chair so he could focus his attention on Erica, who was still fussing away in the swing. He picked her up and prepared to feed her when he smelled something foul.

"Oh baby."

Chandler spun her around and took another whiff before he scrunched up his nose.

"We have to do something about that."

He carried her over to the changing table and carefully undressed her. He opened her diaper and froze.

"Wait. How do you clean poop off when they have a lady thing? I mean, Jack I get, we have the same equipment. But Erica, you have a…lady thing. What do I do?"

Erica's only answer was to look up at him, bleary eyed.

"Okay. I guess, the number one rule would be to keep the P out of the V? Right? I can do that. I'm just going to keep the poop away from your, uh, whole situation down there."

He started to carefully clean her, and for a moment Chandler felt like he finally had a handle on everything. Just then, Jack began to cry again.

"Oh buddy, give me a break, I'm working with a brand new model. I've never had to deal with one like this before."

Chandler used his foot to rock Jack in his seat as he finished with Erica. He carried her over to Jack so he could lean down and turn the nob up on his chair in order to intensify the undulations. Jack quieted back down as the vibrations of the chair soothed him. He then focused on feeding Erica and when she was done, he placed her back in the swing. With both babies finally mollified, he took his time changing the crib sheet that Erica had spit up on.

"Okay, I think we're done guys. Your fed, the beds clean. I don't know what else there could be to do."

As if on cue, Jack began to cry again. Chandler pulled him up and a familiar stench filled his nostrils.

"Oh man. You guys must make the same brand or something."

He took Jack over to the changing table and pulled open his diaper, revealing a foul-smelling, tar like substance in it.

"The doctor said that this would happen, but oh my God are you babies disgusting."

Chandler reached down for a wipe only to find the container empty.

"You have to be kidding me."

He looked across the room to the box of refills that was sealed up and resting on the floor.

"Of course. Okay buddy, lets go for a little walk."

He picked Jack up and started to carry him over to the wipes, but stops in the middle of the room when he started to feel a warm wetness against his chest. He looked down to a gurgling baby peeing on his stomach.

"C'mon dude!"

Chandler, without thinking, turns Jack around, but he keeps urinating and starts to get it on the wall and the rug.

"Did you not hear me say 'c'mon dude'?"

He turns the him back around and Jack finishes relieving himself on Chandler's shirt.

"I don't remember signing up for this."

He brought Jack back to the table and dragged the box of wipes across the room with his foot. He took his time to clean Jack up and once he was finished, he settled him back down into the chair. Chandler took a deep breath and began to remove his urine-soaked shirt.

"How did something so little do all this?" He looked at the two babies and shook his head. "Okay, I'll be right back guys." He turns to leave the room and immediately stepped in a wet spot on the floor which soaked his sock clear through.

"This was a huge mistake, wasn't it."

Chandler peeled off his sock and went downstairs to grab some cleaning supplies and paper towels. Once he returned to the nursery, he started to clean the floor and tried to soak up all the urine out of the rug. After fifteen minutes, Chandler was satisfied that he did the best he could to clean the mess his son had made.

"I just need to rest my eyes."

He stretched out on the floor, folded his arms and rested his head, quickly succumbing to his exhaustion. His nap only lasted for about five minutes, when he woke up upon hearing one of the twins fussing again. He looked over to see Jack, who was ready to start crying again.

"C'mon buddy, I just changed you. you ate, you have clean clothes and you peed on my favorite shirt. What else do you need to go back to sleep?"

"Well, he likes the swing more than the chair. Erica likes the chair."

Chandler turned to see a sleepy-eyed Monica standing in the doorway.

"Hey babe, I'm sorry. Did we wake you."

She yawned and slowly lurched into the room. "That's okay. Why didn't you come and get me to help out?"

Chandler lifted himself up from the floor and rubbed his eyes for a moment. "You've been doing so much this past week and I was worried about you. I wanted you to get a good night's sleep. You've been carrying the load for both of us with these two."

Monica made her way over to Jack and picked him up. She sat down in one of the rocking chairs and cradled him as she started to sway.

"Chandler, that is so sweet, but I haven't been doing it all on my own. You've been with me every time. Helping me out." Monica looked down at her son and made soft noises as she kissed him on the head.

Chandler took Erica from the swing and sat with her in the other chair. "Really?"

"Really. You always have a diaper ready, or a clean set of clothes, of a bottle. You've been amazing." She looked between both babies and then back at her husband. "Honey, this is too much for one person to do all the time. If I didn't have you to help me, I'd probably be a little lost."

Chandler, visibly taken aback from his wife's statement, could only swallow as his throat felt dry. "Monica, no you wouldn't. You're so good at this."

Monica scoffed and shook her head. "Yes, I would. Chandler. I'm scared out of my mind."

Chandler wrinkled his brow and looked over at her, completely perplexed by her confession. "Why are you scared? You're perfect."

"Are you kidding me? I worry that they'll get sick, or that I'll forget to do something that will ruin their mood, or that the formula will be too lumpy or maybe I'm using the wrong detergent for their clothes and they'll get a rash. And sometimes I worry…" Monica stopped herself and looked out the window.

"Mon, what is it?"

A tear prickled and began to slowly fall down her cheek as her voice cracked. "I worry that maybe they cry because they know I am not their mother."

Chandler could feel his heart break at that very moment. "Oh Mon. You're the only mother they know. If anything, they cry because they know you're their mother."

Monica snapped her gaze back to her husband. Clearly confused and a little insulted. "How is that better?"

Chandler shook his head. "That's not what I meant. Let me explain. They know that the second they make a sound; you will come running. They know that if they cry, the person who loves them more than anybody else in the entire world is going to be there to sooth them. They cry, because they know their mom – you – will come and take care of them. They are crying for the only mother they have. They're crying for you."

Monica smiled as another tear slipped down her face. "Chandler Bing. If I wasn't holding this baby, I would be all over you right now."

Chandler, looked down, noticing both twins were now asleep. "Well, maybe we put these babies down and see if we could do a little canoodling."

Monica smiled and placed the now sleeping Jack into the crib. She swaddled him tight and leaned over to kiss him. Chandler went to hand Erica to her and she gestured for him to keep her.

"You do it this time."

She watched her husband as he carefully wrapped his daughter up in her sleep sack. She smiled at the proud look that fell over his face.

"See? You're a natural too."

Chandler looked at her and smiled. "Thanks honey."

Monica playfully ran her finger up his arm. "I need you with me to say sweet things like that and keep me from going crazy too." She wrapped her arms around his neck and began to kiss him, but pulled back quickly as she scrunched up her nose. "Honey. I really want to show you my appreciation, but you smell like pee."


	3. The Fun Parts

**The Fun Parts**

Monica had prepared a plate of assorted cheeses, grapes and some apple slices to serve for lunch with a few cut up pieces of a baguette that she had picked up this morning from the bakery in town. For the last few years she had been determined to get Chandler to finally try some baked brie, and she made sure to include it in today's meal, but like always, he refused and poked at it with his fork as if he were a skeptical child. Once he was done inspecting the offending cheese, he instead opted to eat the cheddar and smoked gouda cubes she had carved up. When they were done eating, Chandler left to check on the twins and Monica took some time to enjoy a rare quiet moment alone as she washed the dishes. Once she finished rinsing, she turned off the faucet and grabbed a dish towel to dry the plates before putting them back in the cabinets, but stopped when she realized she could hear her husband in the next room. She stood at the sink as she listened to him babbling and making strange sounds. He was blowing air through his closed lips and singing show-tunes, which never ceased to amuse her. She looked down and smiled. She had always known that Chandler would do well with the babies; he was such a natural when they would watch Emma for Ross and Rachel. He always gave himself a hard time about the prospect of actually having to take care of his own child, worrying that he wouldn't know what to do. However, over these last two weeks, he was gaining confidence and even taking the lead with some things, like baths and feedings. While he did learn to enjoy caring for the twins, playing with them like this was his favorite. His face would light up and his eyes would practically sparkle anytime he was down on the floor with them. Monica decided the drying could wait and put the towel back on the drainboard. She walked over to the entranceway of the den, trying to be quiet so she wouldn't disturb her family. She wanted to enjoy a few moments observing them.

The twins were laid out on their playmat. Kicking their little legs and moving their heads around slowly. Once in a while one of them would gabble a bit, but for the most part, they were fairly quiet. The mat had crossing arches which were covered with a soft materiel. It had mirrors, rattles, decorative sewn pieces made to look like jungle leaves that crinkled when you touched them, and small stuffed animals that were connected to pull strings. As Monica watched them, she realized, as usual, that all the noises she heard were coming from their father. He was laying on his back next to the mat with his head upside down, watching them closely. He had his legs up, with his knees pointed at the ceiling. He would reach a hand over and alternate between which toys on the mat he would crinkle or spin, in an attempt to get them to notice something and react. He was making nonsensical noises and contorted his face, trying to keep them entertained. Although, it didn't look like they were too interested in his antics. Monica folded her arms and smiled as a wave of complete warmth flowed over her entire being from somewhere deep inside her chest.

_"Everything I'll ever need is right here in this room." _

She felt a tear start to form, but quickly brushed her finger under her eyes to stifle it. Chandler had been making jokes at her expense all week.

_"Monica, you can't keep crying every time you see the babies. They're going to think there is something wrong with you."_

He wasn't exaggerating, she had found herself to be much more emotional than she thought she would be during these first two weeks. It seemed, whenever the babies did something new, or anytime she could catch Chandler with them unnoticed, her heart would melt and she wouldn't be able to keep her emotions in check. Standing here, in-between the two rooms, she concluded that she doesn't really want to contain them anyway. She smirked as Chandler started to roll side-to-side.

"See guys, it's easy. Just do what I'm doing."

"What are you doing?"

Chandler craned his neck to look over at her. "Me? I'm trying to teach them how to roll over, but now, I'm not sure if I can get back up on my own. I think I may have to be an on-the-floor parent from now on. You'll have to take care of everything else that happens higher than two feet from the floor."

An amused smile had spread across her lips. "Honey, they aren't ready to do that yet."

Chandler rolled over on his side and supported his head with one of his hands. "I know, but I go back to work Monday and I don't want to miss anything huge."

"I promise, I will take video of everything they do. We might as well get some use out of that camera my dad bought us."

Chandler pouted a bit, "I know, but it isn't the same. Why can't we get paid to stay home and play with the babies? Where is that job?"

Monica made her way over to where her family was positioned in the room and dropped down to her knees. "You tell me if you find it, okay?"

Chandler reached his free hand over to rub her thigh. "These last two weeks have been some of the best of my life. I didn't know how much I would love this. Hasn't it been great?"

"Even with all the poop and spit up?"

Chandler screwed up his face in disgust. "They are messy. It's like having two little Joeys. You know, I think he is still working on object permanence too."

"That's mean."

"But true. Come to think of it, for the first six months we lived together, he would spit up milk on all his shirts too."

Monica exhaled a chuckle and shook her head. "Well, I have heard him cry more than these two do." She stood up and looked down at the babies one more time. "If you are okay here and have them under control, maybe I'll go and throw on some laundry."

Chandler reached his hand out towards his wife. "Wait, come down here with me."

Monica smiled and put her hands on her hips. "Why?"

"Look, it's my last day of paternity leave. They're being so quiet and adorable right now. I just want to enjoy this moment, right here on the floor, with my entire family. The four of us."

Monica couldn't help but get swept up in his enthusiasm. She shook her head and smiled. Her heart still fluttered whenever Chandler displayed the sweet, sentimental part of his personality.

"You are so cute."

She lowered herself back down to the floor. "I guess the laundry can wait."

Monica settled down on all fours and gave each baby a gentle kiss; Erica got one on her hand and Jack one on his toes.

"You know, maybe, if they fall asleep soon, we can do some laundry of our own." She looked over at Chandler and waggled her eyebrows.

Chandler smiled with a sly expression. "Really? Daytime s-e-x? I must be really cute."

She started to slowly nod her head. "Oh definitely. And we haven't really made time for ourselves since we got in the house. With this being your last day off, and tomorrow it'll be just me with these two and you'll be commuting. I don't know how tired we will be by tomorrow night. Or all week for that matter. I guess, I'm worried we may fall into a rut. Sexually. Lose some of our oomph."

Chandler reached out to grab her hand. "Monica, I know we've both been really tired. I'm sorry if I haven't been, uh, fulfilling your needs."

Her lips curled up on one side. "No, it isn't that. I mean, sure, that too, but also, I just don't want us to become one of those couples who loses their spark because their kids take up all their focus. As it is, it has been almost a week since we," she paused and looked over at the babies, realizing she doesn't want to say anything too explicit while they are awake. "since we did some laundry of our own. And, except for a few times while you were working in Tulsa, we have never gone this long between, um, loads."

Chandler laughed. "Okay, first, you're terrible at double entendres. Second, you don't have to tell me twice." He tilted his head and looked over towards the twins. "Erica, Jack. Go to your room, I am about to perform some unspeakable acts on your mother."

Monica laughed and rolled over into her husband's arms. They laid there on the floor in an embrace and shared a long, slow kiss. She curled up into his body as they both rested on their backs beside the playmat, interlocking their legs. She looked up at the babies and reached out to pull on one of the hanging toys, when she released it, it made a comical, vibrating noise and wiggled back to its original position.

"Well, maybe we can enjoy this for a few more minutes."

Chandler laughed and pressed a kiss against her hair, wrapping his arm around her waist.

"Sure, I think we can too."

* * *

Monica cinched her robe tightly and then poured some fresh coffee into two mugs. Chandler sat down at the table and pulled over some papers to look at. She slid a mug in front of him and sat down. She nodded her head in the direction of the baby monitor in the middle of the table.

"Sounds like they're still out."

"Good. I was hoping we could enjoy a little more alone time."

"Are you telling me you're ready to go for round three?" She smiled and brushed some of her hair away from her face.

Chandler looked up and flashed her an awestruck expression before letting his lips curl into a roguish smile. "Well, I don't know how many more times I have in me, but I'm willing to try." He reached across the table to take her hand in his. "I meant, just spending some time together. Just us. No babies."

Monica gently squeezed his fingers between her own and a serene smile fell across her face. "That sounds good too."

"I'm really going to miss you this week. I don't think we've ever spent this much time together at home. Just being a family. I didn't expect this to be so much fun." He took a slow sip from his coffee cup.

"You're a really different kind of guy Mr. Bing. I don't know how many men would love to spend two weeks taking care of two babies and a wife who didn't have time to shave her legs, or do her hair, or sometimes shower."

"You look amazing to me."

"You don't have to butter me up, handsome, I already put out."

Chandler chuckled. "No, I know. I guess all of this." he waved his hands around the kitchen. "The whole package of wife and mom looks really hot on you. You seem so comfortable and relaxed. It's only four in the afternoon and we're sitting here in our robes. And it's such a turn on."

She slapped his hand playfully. "Stop it." She then looked out towards the entranceway of the kitchen. "I have to say, knowing that one of our friends isn't going to come barging in the room at any moment probably helps. I love them, don't get me wrong, but it is nice to be truly alone."

"I know what you mean. It almost feels like when we started dating, and we would sneak around and we had our own little world that no one else knew about. That's what this feels like. It is just Ours. Mine and yours. And no one else will ever know what these moments are like."

Monica's smile widened and she huffed out a small laugh. "I love you; you know that?"

"I do."

"And you're really an amazing husband and father."

"Thank you." Chandler pulled his hands back and lifted his mug so he could take a triumphant swig of his coffee.

Monica lifted her eyebrows, trying to give him a non-verbal clue to return the compliment. She jabbed her head in his direction and then cleared her throat.

"Uh, and don't you have something to say?"

"I do have something to say. You were right. I am a pretty amazing husband." He sipped from his coffee again with a smirk on his lips.

Monica's eyes narrowed and she mocked an indignant glare at her husband. She quickly got up from her seat, walked over to him, and smacked him on the arm.

Chandler chuckled and pulled her down onto his lap.

"So, round three?"

Monica pulled back from him and smirked. "After that comment?".

"You know, if I'm amazing, it is because of you."

"That's better." She leaned and placed a tender kiss on his lips. She then stood up and took his hand in hers. "Okay, let's go for round three."

They playfully sprinted up the stairs and turned sharply into their bedroom. Just as they crashed down onto the bed and began to share several frenetic kisses, a soft noise carried out over the monitor. They both sighed as they heard one of the babies start to gurgle from their crib. Both of them already able to predict that they had a short amount of time before it turned into a full cry.

Chandler started to haphazardly remove his robe. "We have ninety seconds."

Monica huffed. "We can't get anything done in ninety seconds!"

"I'm pretty sure I can." Chandler leaned into his wife and started to kiss her jawline.

Monica scoffed at him as she pushed him back. "What about me?"

"We knew having kids meant some sacrifices would have to be made."

Monica chuckled and rolled him off of her before she got up from the bed. "Come on champ. Let's take care of them, and then after that, maybe you can take care of me." She reached her hand out and pulled him up to his feet. They shared one more quick kiss and then walked hand-in-hand into the twins' bedroom.


	4. The Hard Parts

**The Hard Parts**

Chandler was certain that this was the angriest he has ever seen his wife. Someone who never met her before would no doubt think the same after just one look at her face. Her eyes were bulging with rage. Her shoulders were tensed up as she coiled her arms in frustration. The infamous vein was throbbing in a state of vexation and looked like it was about to jump off her forehead and strangle him all by itself. Her entire body was contorting with fury all while she was doing that thing where she whispers and yells at the same time. As far as Chandler was concerned, there was nothing worse than being scolded at a barely audible level. He could barely hear a word coming out of her mouth, and every time he asked her to repeat herself, she became even more exasperated with him. She finally had enough of his sarcastic comments and threw a pillow at him from off the bed.

"I don't care where you go, you aren't sleeping in here tonight!"

Throughout their relationship, starting with those first few weeks after they got back from London, up to and including tonight, either one of them could storm out during a fight. For Chandler, it was normally to catch his breath, clear his head, and regroup his thoughts. Before they moved to Westchester, he would slip downstairs to Central Perk for a cup of coffee and then he usually came to his senses after thirty or forty minutes. He would return to the apartment, realizing he was overreacting, and they would apologize to each other and come to a compromise.

Monica was different, she would leave, making sure he knew exactly how angry she was. For her, she just needed to not look at him or hear his voice for a little while. Once they moved in together, she introduced a new method to end the escalation of a fight, she would simply kick him out. Out of the bedroom, out of the apartment, out of her immediate space.

Chandler hated the exile. It made him feel like a guest in his own home, living under the rule of a tyrannical woman who could evict him on a whim. This was why, normally, he would quickly work his way back into her good graces. He knew that most of the time, when he did get kicked out, it was his own fault anyway. One dumb comment too far or some white lie to spare her feelings that ended up snowballing into some unmanageable story he had to confess the truth about. Tonight though, was different. Tonight he doesn't think he did anything wrong.

Chandler huffed loudly as he exited the room, earning him one more stern look as he tucked the pillow under his arm and made his way downstairs into the den. He grumbled to himself the entire way.

"Can't she understand that I'm doing the best I can."

He tossed the pillow on the couch and pulled a fleece blanket out of the closet. As he positioned himself to go to sleep, settling in for the night, he began to reflect on how they got to this point so fast. The twins were born only six short weeks ago, and everything was going great. Then he went back to work and now everything felt like it was falling apart.

He laid down on the couch and let his thoughts wander back to the beginning, when they first moved out of the city. They had worked together well, taking care of the twins, unpacking boxes, and completing a few projects around the house; which included painting a couple of rooms and figuring out where their new furniture was going to go. The house was much bigger than the apartment. They had so many new rooms to decorate. Monica started making lists of what they would need. She had these little squares and rectangles marked off with tape all around the house, signaling where furniture would go when they were ready to purchase it.

"O_h, we need a chaise lounge in the bedroom. We can have a small bookcase and set up a little reading area. The sunlight coming in is so beautiful in the late afternoon." _

He laughed about that. _"Monica, when are we going to get time to read? Unless this is a new place to canoodle." _

He smiled as he remembered pulling her down to the ground, inside the borders of the tape, compelling her to make love on the floor as they christened their imaginary chair. They were in complete harmony, piecing their home together. He would crumple up and discard old newspaper pages that were used to protect the carpets from paint while she put the twins in their crib for a late afternoon nap. They'd settle down for an evening cup of coffee after dinner, playing made-up, competitive games to decide who would have to go upstairs first if one of the twins began to stir. He was constantly amazed at how much fun he was having. It seemed every night he would make some sentimental statement, endearing himself to his wife.

_"Mon, I seriously had no idea how great this could all be." _

He remembers that it was important to Monica for them to get into the house before their anniversary. He found that so odd, since, when the day finally came, they opted to celebrate by staying home and sharing take-out Chinese food in the kitchen while drinking the remains of an already opened bottle of wine. Always pushing the envelope, he tried to convince her to have sex on the table but she protested, and pulled him up to their bedroom instead. He had originally thought she wanted to be in the house so they could plan something special without the prospect of moving out of the city looming over them, but he realized that night, she just wanted to be in her new home. With her family. He assumed it must have been some detailed image she had playing in her mind since she was a little girl. A milestone she could finally cross off her list. Something he had no complaints about. It was probably his favorite anniversary celebration they had so far.

Inevitably, the calendar kept moving forward and he finally had to go back to work. The commute was worse than he thought it would be. Even catching the express into Penn Station meant being on the train for over an hour both ways. He would leave every morning a little after six-in-the-morning and get home around seven-at-night. It was an exhausting ritual; racing down the platform to catch his train, squeezing in and out of the crowded passenger cars every day and making it into his office just in time for his first meeting.

His firm was already a week into a new tentative deal with a big client when he returned. Everyone in the office was focusing on it. He had to start bringing work home to catch up. He'd walk in the door, feeling rushed, with a stack of reports to read and open them up the moment he sat down at the table for dinner. Monica would wait to eat with him, but with his nose buried in some demographic analysis or the dissemination of a focus group to review, they barely spoke throughout the meal. By his second week back, Monica had stopped waiting and ate without him, using the time he was home to do laundry or clean one of the bathrooms. Chandler didn't seem to notice at first until she started announcing, in a clearly agitated and loud voice, what chore she was planning on doing while he ate. His nights would end with him in the den, laptop on his chest, half asleep as he tried to work on new print ads. By the time his third week back started, they began snapping at each other and arguing about everything.

"_Chandler, I need more help around here when you get home. Can you at least put your clean clothes away? Or help give the twins their bath?"_

"_Mon, I have to catch up with this work. Can't this wait until tomorrow?"_

"_But you won't do it tomorrow either! I'll just end up doing everything again!"_

"_Mon, while you're on leave and not collecting a check, one of us has to work. If I get something approved for this new client it could mean more money down the road."_

"_Are you saying what I do around here isn't work?"_

Chandler rolled over on the couch and bit on the inside of his cheek. They have been having some variation of the same fight all week and it culminated with a classic blow out tonight.

"_Maybe if you're stupid dream job paid you something for maternity leave, I wouldn't worry so much."_

"_My stupid job?"_

"_Mon, I didn't mean that, but look, you are only getting a fraction of what you were making thanks to FMLA. Maybe you need help around here. Maybe we should call your mother."_

"_I am not asking my mother for help."_

"_Well, it would be nice to have at least one Geller woman around here who appreciates me. Maybe you could learn a thing or two from her about how to be nice to your husband." _

"_You know I don't like it when you make jokes while we're fighting."_

"_Who's joking? I'm just finally seeing the resemblance between to two of you. Maybe I should start calling you Judy.":_

And that was it. The regrettable, stupid idea of comparing her to her mother. Out loud. When she was already mad. The straw that broke the camel's back. The snide comment that made the vein pop.

Chandler reflected on his words from earlier this evening, but realized that their problems aren't just because of tonight's fight. It was the culmination of living in the same house and practically becoming strangers. Since he returned to work, they haven't spent any meaningful time together. No talks in the kitchen over coffee early in the morning. No shared meals or impromptu snack trays that his wife would whip up for them to munch on while they enjoyed a quiet respite from taking care of the twins. He has been working in the den so late these past few weeks, they haven't even gone to bed at the same time, let alone have had sex.

Weekends were no better, Saturdays he could be found squirreled away in some corner of the house, punching at his laptop with his fingers, trying to get himself ready for Monday morning staff meetings. The only extended time they would have is when they were taking care of the twins at night. Even that lost some of its spark and became almost clinical in nature. They spent three weeks devolving from this happily married couple to bickering roommates. Chandler suddenly shot straight up on the couch and held his hand over his mouth as his eyes opened wide with a startling discovery.

"We're becoming the Bings."

Upon uttering that which he had always feared, Chandler stood up and paced the den.

_"What am I doing? We can work this out. Well, we can't work this out if I stay down here in the den like an idiot. I should go up there." _

He moved to leave the room, but hesitated before he could reach the entranceway.

_"She was really mad. Not normal mad either. She was 'I could smoke a cigarette and she wouldn't notice' mad." _

Chandler sat back down and stretched out on the couch as he resigned himself to spending the night in the den. He thought to let the cooling off period between the two of them finish and tackle this head-on in the morning. He turned over and shut his eyes, but it did nothing to calm him down. He couldn't fall asleep now, not with his mind still racing.

"What are you still doing down here."

Chandler quickly turned back over and saw Monica standing over him. She had her arms folded, but without his glasses, he couldn't really make out her facial expression to determine her mood.

"You kicked me out. So, I'm out."

Monica sighed gently. "I never kick you out all night."

Chandler sat up, leaned over and rested his chin at the base of his palm. "I know. It feels different this time."

Monica tapped her foot. "It feels different because everything is different now. And because I am really angry. And so are you, and these kids, this house, your job, it's draining us of all our strength and patience."

"Monica, look..."

"No, you look; it doesn't matter how angry we are, or how tired we are. We are not my brother and Rachel, and we promised ourselves a long time ago that we never would be like them. We don't fight and then bottle it up and resent each other and do something stupid that makes it worse. We don't spend the night apart. Ever. We don't take a break. We cool off, apologize, work it out, and then, if there's time, we have really great sex. Now march your butt upstairs because we only have about two hours until the twins wake up again."

Chandler let out a soft chuckle. "Is that what we do?"

"That's what we do. It's been working for us for this long, why stop now?"

Monica reached her hand outward in his direction, beckoning him with her fingers. Chandler lifted himself up off the couch and walked over, taking her hand. She pulled him behind her towards the stairs.

They did not embrace immediately while staring into each other's eyes to ease the tension between them, they did not share a passionate kiss that magically solved their problems, and they did not make any promises about how everything will be fixed all in one night. Yet, as Chandler looked down at their interlocked fingers while they made their way back to their bedroom, he knew that they were going to be okay. He knew they would be okay because they were not Ross and Rachel. They weren't Charles and Nora. They weren't Jack and Judy. They weren't any one of a number of other couples who did not know how to make things work like they do. They were Monica and Chandler, and they were going to be okay.

* * *

A/N – Just some timeline and terminology housekeeping. The last episode of Friends aired on May 6th, 2004, which is also listed as the twins' date of birth. Normal healthy babies get released from the hospital in about 48 hours. So, with that in mind, for this post-series story I am writing, I gave them a week to live in the apartment after the babies came home making the actual day that Monica and Chandler move out in that final scene on Saturday, May 15th, 2004.

For those who aren't from the United States, FMLA stands for The Family and Medical Leave Act which can be used in cases of adoption. FMLA just really ensures that you can't get fired or replaced during the first three months when you take extended time off for a family or medical emergency. The employer isn't obligated to pay you, so a lot of women use a type of insurance fund that they pay into so they can at least still get a percentage of their normal paycheck. We are pretty terrible at taking care of working mother's here in the U.S.


	5. Zen and the Art of Lawn Maintenance

**Zen and the Art of Lawn Maintenance**

Chandler had been standing in his front yard, inspecting the new lawn mower Monica purchased last month, for over a half-hour. He simply could not figure out exactly how to start it. He saw the adjustable handle that enabled him to raise the grip and there was the lever that lowered the blades, but he could not find the "on" switch. He got down and poked his face around the base of the machine in hopes that he could find a wire or line that he could trace from the engine up to the starter, but there was nothing there.

"I wouldn't put my face down there if I were you."

Chandler looked up, startled from his futile attempts to perform the one job Monica had tasked him with before their guests arrived to celebrate the 4th of July. Standing at the edge of his property was an older man in his sixties, holding an oily rag, and scratching at his beard.

"You're the new guy on the block, right? The one with the hot wife?"

Chandler propped himself up on his knees and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Yeah, I guess that's me."

The man walked up the driveway towards Chandler and looked at the house, as if inspecting it for flaws. "The missus saw how you were just sitting here looking at this thing and told me to come over and see if you needed help."

Chandler chuckled lightly. "Needing help is my natural state."

The man walked over towards Chandler and rested his arm on the handle of the mower. "What are you trying to do over here?"

Chandler sat back a bit on his legs and gestured in the direction of the lawnmower. "Trying to figure out how to use this thing."

"Well, I think you just push it."

Chandler rolled his eyes. "I know that. How do you start it?"

The older man blankly stared at Chandler. "You don't. This doesn't have an engine. It's a rotary mower. You generate the power by pushing it. You're not that bright, huh?"

Chandler shook his head. "No, I guess not."

As he started to lift himself up, Monica called to him through the screen door. "Aren't you done out here yet? You still need to do the backyard so I can set everything up!"

Chandler, slightly embarrassed at his wife's tone in front of his neighbor, mocked a bold, commanding tone as he answered her. "You bought the wrong one. This doesn't have a motor."

Monica's eyebrow raised up as she detected the frustration in his voice. "I know it doesn't have a motor. We have two babies. We can't run a loud lawnmower if we want them to sleep. I bought one that is quiet."

Chandler looked down at the lawnmower with a dejected expression on his face. "And difficult."

"You're a big boy. I'm sure you can handle it. Can you hurry up now?"

Monica disappeared from the doorway and left Chandler standing there with a sheepish grin on his face as he turned to his neighbor.

"I'm living the dream."

The older man noded his head slowly. "Oh, I get it now. She's a drill sergeant. That's how you got her."

Chandler looked up. "What?"

The man gestured apologetically. "No offense pal, she's just the kind of woman who looks like she requires a lot of patience is all I am saying."

Before Chandler could respond, he heard a shrill voice yell from across the street. "John! Are you done yet? We need to plant these flowers before you go and pick up my mother!" Chandler smugly chuckled and John doffed his baseball cap, nodded, and hurriedly walked back across the street.

* * *

After haphazardly mowing the lawn, which he found even more strenuous than he had originally assumed, Chandler pushed the mower back into the shed. He wiped sweat from his brow and took a quick scan of the backyard. He always knew his wife had a knack for keeping a tidy home, but the work she had accomplished out here was miraculous compared to the way it looked when they moved in. Especially when he took into account that she had the twins to take care of during the day. The walkways were entirely devoid of weeds and debris, the flowers that Monica had planted earlier last month were full and blooming, practically color coding the yard in lush yellows, reds, purples and oranges. There were decorative ceramics expertly placed throughout the shrubbery creating a rustic contrast to the colorful blossoms. The outdoor furniture was set up neatly and clean with crisp new cushions that looked as though they had never been used. The umbrellas were open at just the right angle to protect from the strong summer sun. He took another moment to admire her work and then, realizing how sweaty he was, decided to head back into the house for a quick glass of water and a shower.

He entered the kitchen from the backyard through the sliding glass doors and saw Monica, prepping a tray of food. A puckish grin appeared on his face as he slid up behind her, reaching for a piece of cheese off of the tray she was currently preparing. Monica playfully slapped his hand away.

"This is for the party!" she then turned to face him and her face twisted into one of disgust. "Ugh, you stink!"

"Well, someone bought me a lawnmower that I had to push around the entire yard."

Monica could not help but allow an amused smile to spread across her lips. "Don't be such a baby. I've done it three times already. It isn't that hard. Did you finish at least?"

"All done."

She took a piece of cheese from the cutting board and fed it to Chandler. "One piece is all you get."

Chandler, with a mischievous look in his eyes, started to bring himself closer towards his wife. "Yes. I finished. And I think I deserve a reward." He began to reach his hands out towards her waist.

Monica stepped back quickly and put her hand up to block him. "Don't you dare get me all dirty and covered in your stink!"

"Oh, come on. You used to love my stink. I worked so hard out there. The least you could do is give me a hug." Chandler leaned in again and Monica slipped away, positioning herself behind a chair from the kitchen table.

"No! Stop it!" She tried to keep a stern expression on her face, but despite herself, she allowed her lips to slightly curl up at the corners.

Chandler approached her again, playfully reaching his arms out as he wiggled his fingers. "I worked so hard, don't I deserve some lovin'?"

She let out an exaggerated sigh. "Take a shower first and maybe I'll consider it. Now get out of my kitchen! You're slowing me down. We have a very strict schedule! People are coming over!"

Chandler pretended to be offended as he walked back over to the counter and grabbed a few more cubes of cheese off the tray. "Okay sarge, but I'm taking the cheese!"

"Sarge?" Monica shot him a reprimanding stare and shook her head. She pointed towards the stairs. "Just go. You really do stink."

She turned back towards the kitchen counter and allowed herself a moment to laugh at her husband's antics. Once she heard him walking around upstairs, she returned her focus back to the tray as she continues her food preparation. Monica cut up a few more pieces of cheese as she went through her internal list again. She checked off imaginary boxes as she ran through all the items that they had ready. There was sangria that she made last night in the fridge and a cooler of beers set up on the back patio. She had prepared some potato salad and sliced up fruit. In the fridge, there were hamburgers and hot dogs ready to get cooked on the grill, a garden salad and some eggplant with a balsamic glaze for Phoebe. She took out some chicken legs to grill since she knew her father liked those. She even got some chicken nuggets and ice cream for the kids that she had in the freezer. Chandler, upon seeing how much food she had bought, wondered if she thought the entire neighborhood was coming over, but she reminded him that Joey could probably eat half of it all by himself. Monica was more nervous than she would usually get with just her family and friends coming over, but this was going to be their first big gathering at the new house and she was focused on making sure everything was perfect. She had high hopes of adding the Fourth of July to the list of holidays she and Chandler would get to host.

She took out the clear wrap to cover the food on the tray and began to go over the guest list. She tried to put them in the order that she assumed they would arrive. Her parents were coming in from Long Island and would probably show up an hour earlier than she told them to; her mother, no doubt eager to catch her unprepared. Ross, Rachel, Ben and Emma were driving in from the city. If Rachel drives, they'll arrive early. If Ross drives, they may not even make it by the time the fireworks start to go off. Lastly, Phoebe, Mike and Joey were all taking the train in together. They tried to get in touch with Chandler's parents, but neither returned their messages. The twins should be well rested and she can't wait to dress them in their matching red, white and blue outfits that she found and show them off to everyone. She smiled to herself, content with the knowledge that this was going to be a great day.

* * *

Chandler made his way downstairs and into the kitchen after his shower. He pretended to gingerly approach Monica as he entered the room.

"Is it safe to come in?"

She turned to face him, looked him up-and-down, and then nodded in approval. "There's my handsome husband. Now you can come here and kiss me."

Chandler smirked and came up close to Monica. He snaked his arms around her waist and placed a sweet, long kiss on her lips. She slid her hands up into his hair and lightly dug her fingernails into his scalp.

Chandler pulled back and allowed a salacious grin to form on his lips. "I promise to take another shower if we move this upstairs into the bedroom."

Before Monica could reply, they heard the doorbell ring and they both turned their heads towards the living room. They waited for a moment before they broke their embrace. The front door opens slowly and Judy Geller's voice carried through the house and into the kitchen.

"Hello! Monica? You'd think someone would get the door for us Jack."

"Judy, we're early. They're probably still setting everything up." Jack Geller bounded into the house, gently ushering his wife in so he could close the door behind them. "Monica? Chandler?"

Monica sighed. "They're going to wake the twins."

Chandler reached out and pulled her in close to him. "That's okay. Now that they're here, we won't see the kids for at least six hours. Your mother won't let them out of his sight."

Judy entered the kitchen with a few shopping bags in tow. "There in here Jack! They couldn't answer the door because they're too busy fooling around in the kitchen like a couple of teenagers. You two have children now. You can't just do this wherever you want anymore."

Jack followed her into the kitchen. "Judy, leave them alone. When Monica and Ross were children, we used to have sex all over the house! I remember one time, we were on Monica's bed, but we couldn't finish because it looked like all her dolls were watching us."

Judy's tone became playful and embarrassed. "Jack. I seem to remember you liking an audience."

Chandler released Monica and softly whispered in her ear. "Well, that mood is ruined. I probably won't be able to touch you again for a couple of years."

Monica smirked as she turned to face her parents. "Mom. Dad. Shh. No one wants to hear about that." She walked over and took the shopping bags from her mother so she could start to unpack them. "Mom. I told you I was making potato salad."

"I know dear, but it is always good to have a back-up in case yours doesn't go over well."

Jack put his arm around Chandler's shoulders. "Where are my grandbabies?"

"Oh, they're still sleeping sir."

"Please, call me Jack." He looked over at his wife and daughter, who looked to already be squabbling about something with each other. "How about we go outside and have a drink. I'm pretty sure it's going to look like the Battle of Bunker Hill in here at any moment." Jack took Chandler's arm and pulled him towards the patio doors.

Chandler mouthed "Sorry" to Monica on the way out the door and she silently gestured to him that she would be okay. She turned back to the table and gasped.

"Mom! You must have brought twelve bottles of wine."

"Well, a drunk Judy Geller is a happy Judy Geller."

* * *

Chandler handed Jack a beer and pulled one out for himself as they sat under the shade of the umbrella.

"So, Chandler, Judy says you're working from home now?"

Chandler cleared his throat. "Well, just a few days a week. I really only have to go in for a weekly staff meeting and when we do presentations. My boss actually brought it up. I think I scared him off children with stories about the twins. At least now I can help out a little and I'm not wasting a few hours on the train every day."

Jack pat Chandler's knee proudly. "You're doing good son."

Chandler was taken aback for a moment at how much that small gesture from his father-in-law affected him. "Thanks sir."

"Jack. Please. Or Dad. No more of this sir stuff."

Chandler nodded and they sat in silence for a few minutes and enjoyed the tranquility of the afternoon. The moment of quiet did not last long, as the patio door slid open and Judy came out of the kitchen holding Erica in her arms.

"Look who woke up. She must have known her grandma was here. Didn't you." She sat down next to Jack and started to feed her a bottle.

Monica followed behind with a folded-up pack 'n play and set it up before Chandler could get up and help. Without taking her eyes off the portable enclosure she offered him playful smile.

"Don't worry honey. They'll be plenty for you to do."

"Oh, great. I can't wait." Chandler sipped his beer as Jack chuckled. "Well, where one is, the other is soon to follow. Want me to get the monitor?"

Monica shook her head. "No, he is already stirring. I'll go get him and bring him down."

Jack hopped up to his feet and put his beer bottle down on the table. "No, let me. Why don't you take a seat and relax a little? I'm dying to see my grandson again!"

Before Monica could protest, Jack was already in the house. She slipped out a bottle of formula from her pocket and placed it on the patio table. "Oh well, I guess you were right. We won't see them for the rest of the day."

Chandler smiled and looked off to the side. He took a moment to enjoy the weather before he turned back and allowed himself to see what was going on around him. His mother-in-law was feeding his daughter. His father-in-law was in the house tending to his son. His wife was sitting next to him getting ready to take a sip of his beer. A few years ago, he never would have seen this coming. The domestication of Chandler Bing. Monica looked over and met his eyes with a smile and he could swear she was reading his mind and knew his thoughts right there in that moment. She reached out her hand for his, but before they could touch, he heard a booming voice from over the fence.

"How do you open this thing. I don't want to miss any of the food!"

As Chandler got up to walk over to the gate and help Joey get in the yard, Monica caught his attention. "I think this means Ross is driving."

Chandler laughed and opened the latch before swinging the gate inward. He looked behind Joey and saw Phoebe and Mike making their way up the driveway as a cab pulled away from the curb. Joey immediately embraces Chandler tightly, lifting him off the ground.

"I missed you buddy!"

Chandler strained for room to move let out a pained gasp for air. "Okay Joe. I missed you too. But I need to breathe."

Joey released his hold on Chandler and walked past him into the backyard. Phoebe smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"All he has been talking about is barbeque food, so I hope you have something out."

Chandler chuckled and reached out to shake Mike's hand.

* * *

Monica got up to collect some empty trays and carried them into the kitchen. Phoebe followed her with some empty beer cans and both women huddled around the sink once they stepped inside the house. Phoebe looked a little pale and stepped over to the table cautiously as she sat down. She held her head down for a moment with her eyes closed and cleared her throat.

"When do you think Ross and Rachel are coming?"

"I don't know. With Ross driving? Maybe next week?" Monica laughed at her own joke and rinsed out some of the empty beer bottles. She turned to look at Phoebe and noticed her loss of color. "Do you need some water? You look a little tired."

Phoebe straightened up. "What? Oh no. I'm fine. I just, uh, get train sick."

"Train sick? Phoebe, you got here an hour ago…" Monica's voice trailed off and her eyes opened wide with discovery. "Oh my god. You're pregnant, aren't you?"

Phoebe, looking shocked, started to protest but broke quickly. "I wanted to wait until everyone was here. But yeah. We're pregnant! I think we got pregnant the night you guys brought the twins home from the hospital!" Phoebe smiled and clapped her hands together excitedly.

Monica smiled back weakly and walked over to embrace her. "Oh Pheebs. I'm so happy for you." A few tears began to fall and Monica wiped her eyes. "Really happy."

Chandler walked into the kitchen holding two empty baby bottles and put them on the counter. "Uh, is everything all right?"

Monica turned to look at him as she continued crying. "I'll be right back."

Chandler watched her rush out of the kitchen and then looked at Phoebe with a puzzled expression on his face. "What's the matter?"

Phoebe tried hard to contain her excitement. "Oh, those are happy tears. I'm pregnant."

Chandler walked over and hugged her. "Wow, that's great. I'm really happy for you guys." He looked past her, trying to see if he could hear Monica and locate her in the house. "I'll be right back." Chandler offered a gentle squeeze on Phoebe's shoulder before he walked out of the kitchen.

He made his way down the hall, darting his eyes all about until he finally saw Monica in the laundry room. "Hey. Are you okay? Those don't look like happy tears."

Monica looked up and offered him a genuine smile, grateful at how well he could read her mood. "No. I don't know what's wrong with me. We have two great, healthy babies. I just, I shouldn't feel like this." Monica sniffled and ran her finger under her eyes as she tried to stop the flow of tears. "You know, she thinks it happened when we brought the babies home to the apartment. They just decided to have a baby and got pregnant in the same day. I know I shouldn't feel like this. I know. I just…" her voice trailed off and Chandler rushed over to pull her into him. He held her tightly and kissed her on the top of her head.

"Look, honey, it's okay to feel like this. It doesn't make you a bad friend."

Monica looked down and Chandler could feel her quivering in his embrace. She finally looked up and her eyes, shiny with fresh tears, met his.

"Does it make me a bad mom?"

"No, Of course not." He pulled her into his chest and she rested her head against him. "Monica, it just makes you human."

Monica pulled back, looked up at her husband and kissed him. "Thank you. Thank you for knowing I needed you." She disentangled her arms from around his body and wiped her eyes once more. A determined look washed over her face. "I'll be out in a minute. I'm just going to clean up a bit."

Chandler looked her in the eyes for some kind of reassurance that she was really okay, and she nodded at him, already knowing what he was thinking. He kissed her on the top of the head one more time, gave her another tight hug, and walked out of the laundry room.

Monica stood there for a few more minutes in an attempt to compose herself. She squeezes her hands into tight fist and closed her eyes as she took a few deep breaths. She shook her head and grabbed a few tissues so she could dab her eyes dry. She smoothed out her shirt and decided she was ready to join everyone outside.

When she reached the kitchen, she saw that Ross and Rachel had finally shown up. Ben was running around the yard and Emma was trying to follow him. She was already walking at a brisk pace. Ben was calling out to his sister to keep up as he explored the landscape of their home. Monica smiled at the scene unfolding before her eyes and stepped out into the backyard.

* * *

Monica, Rachel, Phoebe and her mother were in the kitchen, after dinner and dessert were already a distant memory. Monica and her mother had teamed up to clean all the used dishes and pack the leftovers into disposable, plastic containers. Rachel and Phoebe weren't much help as the gushed over Phoebe's news and swapped stories about being pregnant while they sat at the table across the room. Chandler kept a watchful eye on his wife from his seat outside, looking at her through the kitchen window, trying to gauge her mood. She would look up out at him every now and then, make eye contact and then smile sweetly. Trying to convince him, and probably herself as well, that she was going to be okay.

Chandler turned back to face his guests. Jack was snoring on a lounge chair. Ben had a handheld video game device he was playing while munching away at some potato chips. Ross, Joey and Mike were all sitting around the table; their conversations winding down and each man enjoying the quiet for a moment. Ross shifted Emma on his lap while she ate some cookies from a plate in front of him.

"So, Chandler. You really turned into Andy Griffith out here, huh?"

Chandler smiled and took a sip of his coffee. "He was a sheriff Ross."

"You know what I mean."

Chandler nodded. "I guess. I even mowed the lawn. Did you know they made lawnmowers that don't have motors?"

Mike flattened his lips. "We don't mow lawns in the city."

Joey cleared his throat. "You know. I might mow a lawn soon." The other three men shared a puzzled look and turned their gaze to him. "I was going to wait until the girls got back out here but, uh, well, I'm getting written out of Days, so I'll be out of a job again."

"Oh, Joe. I'm so sorry." Chandler pat him on his shoulder.

Joe tried to hide it, but they could tell he was feeling down about it. He straightened up and puffed his chest out a bit. "Well, it might be a good thing, you know. See, my new agent, he thinks I should go to L.A. There's a ton of shows that film out there and he is pretty sure he can get me on a few in some different roles. Expand my portfolio. He already has some auditions lined up."

Ross looked over at Chandler and then back to Joey. "L.A.? Really? Wow. That's a big move."

"I know, but whenever I wasn't on Days, I struggled just to get a commercial booked. This guy really thinks he can kickstart what he calls 'the next phase' of my career. I think I have to take this shot. It could be my last chance" Joey looked over at Chandler as if he were searching for his approval that he was doing the right thing.

Chandler smiled and reached over to rub Joey's shoulder. "We're all going to miss you buddy."

Joe smiled back; that was all he needed to know that his best friend supported him in this decision. "Thank man. And look. I'll be back out to visit as much as I can. Ooo, and maybe you guys can come out to see me when I become a huge TV star!" His tone quickly changed from the apprehension he displayed before to one of excitement.

"Wait. Let's do this right." Chandler got up and gestured for them to wait. He slipped into the house for a few minutes and came back out with a bottle of some dark brown liquor and four glasses. He poured a small amount into each one and raised his up. "We need to have a toast." The other three men stood up and Chandler looked them over for a second.

"To Mike, congratulations. From someone who was in the delivery room recently, you are going to see some really weird and terrible things. To Ross," He searched his mind for something to say and then smirked. "Well, for not getting married and divorced this year." Ross raised his arms and banged them together rapidly, signaling the famous Geller alternative to the middle finger. "And to Joey. You're going to do great out in L.A., I can feel it."

Joey looked down bashfully and raised his glass to drink, but then pauses. "Wait!" Everyone stopped mid-sip. "And to Chandler. For, well, for being all this." He gestured towards the house and then around the yard. "and doing it really good. I always knew you had this in you."

As if on cue, fireworks started to go off in the night sky. Ben rushed over towards Ross and tried to get Emma to look up and pay attention. The screen door opened as Judy, Monica, Rachel and Phoebe made their way back outside to join the guys around the table and enjoy the impromptu neighborhood fireworks display. Monica raised an eyebrow as she glanced at the bottle of liquor on the table and then brought her gaze up to Chandler. He slid his arm around her waist and kissed her on the neck.

"I'll tell you later."

They all took a seat and gazed upward at the bright lights screaming across the sky. Fireworks painted a magical landscape of color against the darkened canvas. Monica positioned herself on Chandler's lap while placing the baby monitor on the table in front of him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and intertwined her fingers behind his head.

"I hope the fireworks don't wake up the babies. I want to enjoy this before it's over."

Chandler looked around at his friends, taking stock of all the news he was given this day about all of the significant changes in their lives that wait just over the horizon. He realized that this may be one of the last times they are all together in one place. He pulled Monica back into him and squeezed her tightly.

"me too."

* * *

A/N – I never saw a single episode of the Joey spinoff so except for the trip to L.A. none of that will be referenced or included in this series.


	6. Bedtime Stories

**Bedtime Stories**

Monica stirs a bit from her slumber as she feels the bed shift. She opens her eyes slightly, allowing them to adjust to the low light, and sees Chandler sliding out of his side of the bed. They make eye contact and he smiles at her as he reaches over to turn the volume for the baby monitor down.

"Go back to sleep. They're making some noises, but I don't think they're ready to wake up. I'll just check on them real fast. I'll let you know if I need you."

He leans over, kisses her cheek, and slowly walks out of the bedroom. Monica smiles sleepily as she watches him leave. She tries to settle herself back down, wrapping the comforter over her shoulders and closing her eyes.

_"I have the best husband." _

She rolls her shoulders a bit, stretching them slightly to ease some stiffness in her neck. She still feels physically exhausted from the long day of hosting her first Fourth of July barbeque and all the work that entails. Yet, as tired as her body feels, her mind cannot stay still. She realizes that her maternal instincts will not let her fall back asleep while the baby monitor is switched off.

_"What if he forgets to turn it back up when he is done?" _

Reluctantly, she pulls an arm out from under the covers, leans over and slowly raises the volume until she can clearly make out Chandler's voice.

"…you guys don't look ready to get up. What is all the noise about?"

She rolls over on her side and watches the volume meter rise and fall as he speaks. She smiles and decides that instead of falling back to sleep she would take advantage of this opportunity to catch a private moment between her husband and their children. She hears faint, weak gurgles and grunts from the twins as if they are trying to answer him back and she chuckles at the image it creates in her head.

"Well, I don't smell anything which is a good sign. You know, if someone told me five years ago that I would spend most of my time smelling baby butts, I'd have said they were crazy."

Monica lets another light chuckle escape her lips. She is constantly amused that Chandler eschews the typical singsong baby talk most use around the twins and instead opts to speak to the babies as if they are little people who can understand his every word.

"Well, let's try to lie down quietly and fall back asleep, okay guys? Mom had a long day and it would be great to give her a little break. I guess you two aren't used to having so many visitors. It was a busy day. Everybody wanted to get to spend some time with you two. Maybe you're just a little amped up from your first chance to see some fireworks."

She hears something shifting and can only assume it is one of the rocking chairs being moved closer to the crib so he can sit down.

"You guys are still pretty new to this whole being part of a family thing. You know, I'll let you in on a little secret. I'm a little new to it too. I understand how it can be a little overwhelming, but it is a good thing. We got pretty lucky with your mom, she's really the best family we could ask for. She takes real good care of us. I know I'm not that great at it yet but I'm trying to keep up."

Monica sits up a bit, now invested in hearing everything that is going on in the other room. She turns the monitor up so she can make out the soft voice of her husband a little better as he whispers to Jack and Erica.

"I never really knew how to do this whole family thing that well. I'm kind of like you guys. Except I don't poop in my pants. I guess we will have to learn how to do this family thing together. I think if we just follow your mom's lead, we should be okay. She was sort of my first family, just like how she's your first family. Many years ago, she just would not leave me alone and forced her way into my life, no matter how grumpy I would be. Sort of like the two of you. When you're crying and fussy."

Monica, now wide-awake, pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around her legs. She lets a sad smile cross her lips at the thought that her husband did not feel like he had a family until he had moved into their building.

"Yeah, she really took care of me. She was the closest thing to family I ever had. I didn't know it at the time, but looking back, I can see it. It's the same with you guys. So, no matter how much commotion there is with everyone grabbing at you, it's okay, because you'll have me and your mom right there. I know I'm still all thumbs with some stuff. Don't you guys give up on me though, okay? I'll get there."

Monica brushes a finger under her eye instinctively to stop a tear from forming.

"_You're already there."_

"I can tell you guys one thing at least, I know what not to do thanks to my parents. I'll never leave you alone with people you don't know for a few weeks at a time. I promise I'll never forget your birthday. I'll never take you to the wrong house for a friend's party and then leave you on the curb because I didn't wait and make sure you went inside, forcing you have to figure out how to walk home all by yourself. I won't ship you away to some school you don't like. I won't miss your graduation."

Despite her efforts, Monica feels a tear slowly form and fall down her cheek. She forgets sometimes exactly how lonely Chandler was as a child with two absentee parents. Even at his most acerbic when talking about his childhood, he always treated everything like it was a punchline. All of his jokes about growing up in the Bing house somehow made it seem less real. Now, in this tender moment that she is eavesdropping on, it feels like too much, and she wonders how he turned out to be such a sweet and devoted man from this childhood filled with so many sad memories.

"And, I'll never let you guys think I don't love you. I'll never let you guys feel like you aren't good enough. I know I may not be the best at all this dad stuff and I might be still learning how to be someone's family, but I'll try okay? Hey? Did you guys just fall asleep while I was talking. Typical. I take back everything I just said. You two are on your own."

Monica covers her mouth as she allows herself a quiet laugh at the obvious sarcasm in his voice. She wonders if he even realizes what he was saying this entire time, and the weight those words carry, or if he was just rambling; offering soothing white noise to lull his children to fall back asleep.

"Okay, I'll see you guys when you really wake up in a few hours."

As she hears him move the rocking chair back to its original position in the room, Monica gets up out of bed and wipes under her eyes, stifling any tears that were forming. She composes herself, and folds her arms, waiting for Chandler to return to the bedroom. She decides to adopt a scornful expression to greet him with when he arrives.

Chandler walks in and is immediately taken aback by her stance and stern look. Monica takes a sharp, admonishing tone as she speaks.

"I don't appreciate you lying to our children. Sit down, I'll be right back! Another mess I have to clean up."

Chandler huffs as he sits down on the bed, bewildered at exactly what his wife could be talking about. He shakes his head, slightly annoyed that it seems as if she is picking for a fight. A few moments pass and her voice begins to carry through the baby monitor. She speaks softly, at a bit of a higher octave than usual. A tone she often has when speaking to the twins.

"Hello bunnies. I hear you guys just had a talk with your daddy. Well, don't listen to him. He doesn't know what he is talking about. He doesn't give himself enough credit."

Chandler turns to face the monitor. He smirks and rubs his stubble a bit with his hand. He isn't exactly sure what is going on, but he is at least relieved that he isn't in trouble.

"I'll tell you something he didn't tell you. If it wasn't for your dad, we wouldn't even be a family. You guys wouldn't be here at all. Mom almost messed it all up. I was so excited to meet you guys that I almost ruined it. And your dad, well, I don't know what he did, and he won't tell me, but…"

Chandler can hear Monica's voice begin to crack as her words start to sputter in watery drips. He stands up for a moment, intending to go into the nursery.

As if she can see through the walls or read his mind, she chokes down on her tears and in a soft but commanding tone speaks directly to him through the monitor.

"Don't come in here. I'm having a private conversation with my children."

Chandler chuckles and sits back down, amazed at his wife's intuition to always seem to know what he is thinking and what he is doing, even when she isn't in the room.

Monica looks directly at the transmitter sitting in the nursery as if she were looking into his eyes.

"I don't know what you did, but you saved this family before it was even a family. You always blamed yourself for us not being able to have a baby. You put all that weight on yourself. Your too blind to see you gave us the two of them. Whatever you said to Erica to get her to change her mind, that was all you. I don't ever want to hear you talk about yourself like you aren't any good at this. Do you hear me? We are not a family if it wasn't for you."

Chandler nods to himself in the darkened bedroom, he can feel his eyes begin to water and tries hard not to let any tears come. As she speaks, he can hear her choking a bit on her words. He knows, without even seeing her, that tears are flowing down her face.

"We wouldn't all be here without you. I'd never know these two little bunnies and worse, they'd never know you and they wouldn't get to see just how wonderful you are. You're the perfect father and husband for this family. I know it. These two little ones know it, and you better know it too."

Chandler just replies softly as if she were sitting next to him in the room. "Okay. Okay."

As he reaches over to the end table to grab a tissue, Monica appears in the doorway. She's holding herself and looking at him, the shadows from the darkened hallway cover her face.

"You weren't the only one who needed someone back then when you first moved into the building. You know that right? I needed you too. You were always there for me. You were my best friend. I know sometimes you don't think you're good enough for us, but you really are. Sometimes, I don't know if I'm good enough for you."

Chandler rushes over to the doorway and takes her in his arms. "Monica. That's crazy. How could you think that?"

She looks up at him, tears staining her cheeks. "That's exactly what I think when you say stuff like that. So, I need you to get it through your thick skull and stop being so hard on yourself. That's my job anyway."

He pulls her in tight and kisses her on the top of her head as he chuckles.

"Okay. I will. I get it. I do. I promise."

They stand there for a few minutes, wrapped up together. The tears have stopped and both take this moment to enjoy their quiet embrace. Chandler pulls back a bit so they can look at each other and smiles.

"So much for trying to let you sleep, huh? If I knew this was going to happen, I would have just let you check on them."

Monica smacks him on the chest and laughs. "You were this close to getting lucky too." She disentangles herself from him and hops into bed, wrapping the covers around her.

Chandler turns around and follows her, putting his hands together and pleading. "Wait. Mon. Seriously? Wait. Don't go back to sleep. I didn't know this was a 'get lucky' kind of talk! I wouldn't have made a joke if I knew I was going to get lucky!"


	7. The Prodigal Son

**The Prodigal Son**

It was late afternoon and Monica was working frantically. She moved awkwardly between the stove, sink and counter as she tried to maintain a rhythm in her motions, attempting to duplicate her usual grace in the kitchen. She had planned to take time over the weekend to practice her recipes and sharpen her cooking skills that may have gotten rusty while she was on maternity leave. She saw it as a much-needed exercise after taking such a long absence from work; yet at home everything still felt slightly foreign to her. She was much more accustomed to doing this kind of food preparation in a commercial kitchen. The larger space allowed her freedom to keep more ingredients close by and she could work on multiple dishes at once. Her knives would always be in reach and she wouldn't have to stop to wash every pot or pan after each use, which would have allowed her to move on to the next entrée much quicker. Using her own stove at home meant there wasn't enough room for the pot of sauce, the wok and the cast iron skillet she needed for the dish she was currently working on. But she made due. The bronzini was searing up nicely and the vegetables were almost at a perfect level of tenderness. The sauce she made with lemon, tarragon, dill, olive oil and capers has been completed and was ready to be drizzled on the fish once it was plated.

Chandler made his way downstairs as he followed the enticing aroma of Monica's work into the kitchen. They had made an arrangement for today where he would take the bulk of the work with the twins so Monica could spend the afternoon undisturbed in the kitchen as she tried to create some new recipes and prepare for her inevitable return to work next week. It has been getting easier with the twins. The babies were eating more, now that they were over three months old, and sleeping longer at night, but they still needed to take naps that lasted an hour or two at a time throughout the day. He had them in the den when they weren't eating or sleeping so that, when she had time, Monica could join them. They both sat on their knees while they had the babies work on tummy time exercises, encouraging each of their children to lift their heads and support their upper body on their own. She took these moments to heart, knowing that all of these full days caring for her children were coming to a close as her vacation time and FMLA leave were almost over. Some part of her probably threw herself into cooking all day in order to distract herself from dwelling too much on this fact. Yet, despite her best efforts, she would still have a moment of reflection on the upcoming changes and she wondered if this must have been how Chandler felt when he had to return to work two months ago.

As Chandler entered the kitchen, he looked around and his eyes went wide with wonder and shock. On the table were over a half a dozen different types of food. A half chicken, seared and crusted with herbs, served with asparagus. Tuna tartar, arranged with roe and a seaweed salad. Baby lamb chops, dressed with mint and mashed turnips. Hanger steak, sliced on an angle with a chimichurri sauce. Bao buns stuffed with pork belly and topped with spicy fresh chilies, kimchi, drizzled with a hoisin glaze, and lastly a Japanese eggplant curry served with a small portion of sticky white rice.

He gestured wildly at the food on the table. "Mon. What is going on in here. You know Joey lives in L.A. now? Right? There is no way we can eat all of this."

Monica, without averting her attention from the dish she was currently putting together, nodded her head. "I know, I know. I only have one more dish to try after this one. We just need to take little bites to taste them. We can wrap most of what we don't eat for leftovers and lunches the next couple of days. Or we can see if John and Millie across the street want any of it." She turned briefly to face him and gave him a crooked smile. "I just really need to exercise my cooking muscles. We've had so much take-out and pasta these last few months that I feel like I forgot how to do this. Before we know it, I am going to be back at work."

Chandler raised his eyebrows in disbelief, still looking at all of the food spread out on the table. "Okay, I get it. But that," he pointed at the fish that she was currently bringing over to the table. "I am not touching. I don't eat food with a head. I think it can see me. I mean, look at his eyes. They're scornful and angry."

Monica scoffed. "I don't know how I ever married such a philistine when it came to food. This is a delicious piece of fish!" She started to wave the dish at Chandler forcing him to back away. He raised his arms as if to protect himself from the fish.

"Stop that! How do we even know he is dead? I'll bet that thing sneaks upstairs tonight to exact its revenge!" Chandler moved away from the table and crossed his index fingers over each other. "Away from me minion of the devil!"

Monica laughed and placed the plate down on the table. She wiped her hands roughly on her apron. "Well, then at least try the steak and the lamb chops okay?"

Just as Chandler began to suspiciously inspect the food available on the table the phone rang. "I'll get it. Why don't you take a break and try some of this stuff yourself?"

Monica exuded an almost arrogant level of self-confidence and smirked at her husband. "Because I already know these are all great. I made them. I need to know if a schlub like you…" Chandler turned and shot her a steely glare which cut her off. She smiled sheepishly and gestured at him apologetically. "I mean, a wonderful man like yourself with a less adventurous palate would think they tastes good too." She smiled and then pointed rigidly at the bronzini. "So be prepared, because you are eating that fish!"

Chandler shivered a bit at the thought and picked up the telephone.

"Hello. Bing's house of horrors."

Monica made a face and mocked Chandler's words with an unintelligible impression of his voice.

"Oh, hey Joe. How is it going! We're good. Babies are good. How is L.A. treating you? Really? No way. You've only been there for a month! That must be some agent you have."

Chandler covered the mouthpiece with his hand and looked over at Monica.

"Mon, Joe already has a small guest part on a TV show."

Monica returned her attention to the dirty dishes in the sink and offered up a congratulatory hoot. "Woohoo! Way to go Joey!"

"What's that? It should start airing in the next few months? Wow! Congratulations. I knew you could do it. Mon? Well, she's cooking right now, you should see all of this food. Great. What? No, I can't mail you some food. Okay. You want to what? How are we going to watch it together? Are you coming out to New York? Oh. Oh. Yeah, that sounds like something we could do. That could work."

Monica was eavesdropping as she pulled out some more ingredients from the refrigerator. "What could work honey?"

Chandler looked up at her as he pulled the phone from his mouth. "Joey wants us to watch the show together."

"Uh, he knows how far away L.A. is? Right?"

"Yes. He wants to call us and have him on speaker phone while we watch it here and he watches it there. He bought a cable package that gives him east coast broadcasts. You don't mind, right?"

"Sure. As long as it isn't a night that I am working, I can take care of the kids if they give us any trouble so you and Joey can have your phone date. You know you don't have to ask for my permission, right?"

Chandler went quiet and put his finger up, gesturing for her to give him a minute as he listened to what Joey was saying. "Mon, Joey says you don't have to pretend you aren't the boss around here for him. He knows I need your permission."

Monica laughed. "Thanks Joe! I forget sometimes who I am supposed to fake it with so Chandler doesn't feel bad."

Chandler rolled his eyes and turned back to finish his conversation, but before he could speak, the doorbell rang. Chandler and Monica shared a look of bewilderment, neither able to guess who might be at their door.

"Joe. I got to go. Someone is at the door and Monica is making another weird fish thing that I swear is watching me and it creeps me out, so I am going to see who it is. I'll call you later on in the week. Okay. All right. Bye."

"Bye Joe!" Monica added in a singsong voice as Chandler hung up. Her focus was already back on preparing her last dish of the evening. Chandler looked over her shoulder and shuddered again at the image of a whole fish, head to tail, laying on a platter.

"Mon. Please, throw a towel over that thing and cover his head at least. This way I can't see the eyes."

Their unannounced guest knocked lightly on the door a few times.

"Let me get that."

Chandler scurried through the kitchen and into the living room. He approached the front door with a smile as he thought up some more jokes about fish that he could not wait to use on his wife. He turned the knob and pulled it open and who he saw on his front step caused his mouth to gape in stunned silence. There, on his porch, was a slightly stocky man, maybe a few inches shorter than him. He had brown hair with whispers of grey at the edges. His skin appeared to be very smooth and his face looked young, even though he was more than twenty-five years Chandler's senior. He had on a thin yellow button-down shirt, tan dress pants and white shoes with a black design in the shape of a treble clef along the sides.

"Dad?"

"Hi son."

Charles Bing had not been back to New York in a few years and he spoke with Chandler only a handful of times since the wedding. Only twice since the twins were born. It was more than Chandler could say for his mother, who had only sent them a gift basket filled with sensual massage oils with a card that read, "Congratulations on the baby."

Chandler had privately resigned himself to the idea that his parents were just slipping back into old habits; more involved in their own lives than his. Once they made their appearance at the wedding, they were gone again. Judging by their outfits on that day, he was certain they were there more for themselves anyway, and not for his or Monica's sake. Yet, with the babies, the move and Monica occupying his time, he didn't really think about it. He didn't feel that he needed his old family when he had this amazing new one.

"May I come in?"

Chandler suddenly shaken out of his confused stupor by his father's question, stepped aside. "Of course. Come in. We're just sitting down to eat. Are you hungry?"

"Sure, but only if you have enough. I don't want you to go out of your way."

Chandler laughed. "I'm sure we will manage."

* * *

Charles sat back and dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "Monica my dear, this was all so amazing. So many different flavors. I guess I got very lucky in stopping by tonight."

Monica slid her shoulders up as a bashful expression crossed over her face. "Thank you. Just some stuff I whipped up."

Chandler looked over at her and raised an eyebrow at her false modesty. She made a face at him and mouths "What?" which caused him to laugh.

Charles watched them and allowed a smile to spread across his lips. "You kids have your own little language, don't you? That's good. That means you're one of the ones that will last. Believe me. I have seen a lot of married couples when I lived in Vegas."

Chandler looked up quizzically and Monica took his hand and squeezed it as a sign of support. She turned her eyes towards Charles. "When you lived in Vegas? What do you mean?"

Charles got up to bring his dish to the sink and then turned around as he leaned on the counter. "I've been wanting to come out to New York ever since you sent me the birth announcement. By-the-by, Monica, those pictures were adorable honey."

"You could have called."

"I know, son. I know. I should have. But I wasn't sure when I could come, and I didn't want to call without having a firm moving date. I didn't want it to sound like an empty promise. Maybe that was stupid. Anywho, it wasn't much after that when Mitchel and I decided to sell the show."

Monica lifted her head up in confusion. "Mitchel?"

"Yes, uh," Charles looked at Chandler. "You remember Mr. Garibaldi?"

Chandler nodded.

"There you go, well his name is Mitchel. He used to go by Mitch, but that is much too butch of a nickname for him."

Chandler uncomfortably stretched at his collar and Monica grabbed his hand again to steady him as she laughed. "So, what does this mean? Did you move out of Nevada?"

"Yes." Charles looked down and shuffled his feet a bit, making a small circle with one foot and Monica could swear in that moment he was Chandler's exact double. "We thought we would look for work here, and we actually found a few clubs where the owners knew our show from Vegas. Mitchel is working on bookings now. He always took care of that side of the business."

Chandler stiffened up again and appeared slightly apprehensive. "So, does that mean you're moving to New York?"

"If it'll have me." Charles looked at the two of them and Monica could tell that he was asking for their permission. "New York State is a bit more progressive than Nevada anyway. And I would be able to spend time with my grandchildren, if that was okay with you two."

Chandler looked around the room sharply and then made eye contact with Monica. His expression immediately informing her that he was incapable of processing all of this information. She patted his hands underneath hers and smiled reassuringly at him. She looked him in the eye and mouthed, "It's okay." And then turned to Charles.

"We would love for them to get to know you. If you wait a bit longer, we might be able to introduce you to them when they wake up."

Charles put his hand on his chest and could only offer up his appreciation in a quiet, meek voice. "Thank you for this."

Chandler got up and started to put some more dishes in the sink. "Do you have a place to stay?"

Charles stepped back to the table to grab a few more dirty dishes, but Monica put her hands up, gesturing for him to sit down and relax.

"Actually, yes. We bought a condo just a little bit closer to the city. Maybe thirty minutes away in Yonkers."

Monica and Chandler looked at each other again as they began to wash dishes together. Chandler was still unable to find any words and he looked at Monica to take over.

"That's great Charles. It will be really nice to have you so close by. My parents are all the way on Long Island and Nora, well, you know her busy schedule. It will be good for one of their grandparents to be nearby."

Charles took a sip from his wine glass and laughed. "Well, I may not come over too often if this is how you cook. I won't be able to fit into any of my outfits!"

Monica laughed and shuffled over towards the coffee maker. She began to measure out some grounds in order to make a fresh pot.

"About that, so, do we call you Charles? Dad? Mom? Grandpa? I'm sorry, I'm still really new to this."

Charles laughed. "You can call me Charles, or hopefully, dad. When I am dressed as Helena, then it is normally appropriate to only call me by that name. Sometimes I get called Helena even when I am not dressed up, if you know what I mean." Charles laughed a bit at his own joke and Monica checked over to look at Chandler, who still appeared a bit uncomfortable. "But I am kind of like Ru Paul; he, she, either one works for me."

"Okay, well then, Dad it is." Monica turned around and offered her father-in-law a smile.

"I'd very much like that dear."

* * *

Monica finished pouring out the coffee as Chandler returned the last of the clean plates to the cupboard. Charles was sitting at the table, watches them, almost marveling in their domestic coordination.

"You two really blow me away."

Chandler turned for a moment and flashed a half smile at his father. "What do you mean."

"I can see how in sync you two are. You're constantly touching each other, working together without even speaking. The way you both let your gaze linger for a bit when the other isn't looking. Sweetheart, if I watch much more of this, I might come down with a case of diabetes due to all the sweetness."

Monica shifted her weight and bumped her shoulder into Chandler's side as he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her on the top of her head. At that moment, the sound of a gurgling baby carried over the monitor that was sitting on the counter. Chandler tilted his head.

"That's got to be Erica. Jack would be so much louder right now. Why don't you finish with the coffee and I will bring them down." He gave Monica one more kiss and she smiled as she returned the coffee pot to warmer.

Monica sat down next to Charles and studied him for a moment as he sipped his coffee. He looked over at her, slightly bemused, and smiled.

"Is there something you want to say dear?"

Monica shifted in her seat and took his hand in hers and smiled. Her tone was gentle and soothing.

"I love that you want to make an effort and get back into Chandler's life. It has been too long and I think it will be good for both of you. And I love that you want to get to know your grandbabies."

"Oh, well, dear…."

"I am not finished." Her words came out sharp, but she quickly regrouped and resumed using a more calming tone. "I must warn you. This is my husband and the father of my children. You and your wife really did a number on him and it took him a long time to recover from it. I know my husband, and his heart is so big and he loves with every inch of himself, so I know he will forgive you and he will fall back in love with you soon enough. That is just what he does. When he loves he puts all of himself into it. He does it with his friends, he does it with his children, he does it with me. It is an amazing gift that I cherish. If you come back here and make him go through all of that and then take off on him again and hurt him, I will hunt you down and you won't have to worry about tucking anymore when you dress up as Helena because I will rip it off from the root. Okay?"

Monica smiled sweetly as her grip tightened on Charles' hand, causing his knuckles to go white.

Taken aback by her physical strength he strained a smile and nodded. "Wow. Monica. I think I like you even more now."

Monica, not wavering from her stare, pat his hand in hers. "Just so we are clear. He mine now. I won't let him get hurt again."

Charles' features softened with admiration for the woman his son has fallen in love with. "I promise. I just want to make up for lost time. I'm really glad he found you. You are a remarkable woman."

"I know."

* * *

A/N – I know that there is an interview with one of the creators from a few years ago where I think they attempted a bit of revisionism and said Charles was actually transgender, and not a drag queen, but I think that is just a poor attempt to reboot the image of the character maybe? I don't know. Maybe they meant for him to be transgender and they weren't able to be that explicit in the late 90s/early 2000s. If he were transgender, then the show was really quite awful to him with the jokes they made at his/her expense.

For the purpose of this story, Charles is a gay man who also happens to be a drag queen and may actually be more comfortable living as Helena than as Charles. Which is pretty much how he is played and referred to on the show itself. I am sort of basing him on a couple of people, my "Uncle" Ralph the most, who was not really my uncle, but lived with my Uncle Jerry (who was really my Mother's uncle) for over 50 years. He was a fun guy who played the accordion at every holiday gathering and my New York Italian-American, Roman Catholic family took him in with open arms when his own family turned him away during a time when being gay was practically illegal.

Again, not having watched Joey, his story here may take a few turns that don't mesh well with that series. I have no idea if you can get a cable package with east coast broadcasting, but this is all fiction anyway, right?


	8. Welcome to the Real World

**Welcome to the Real World**

Monica steps out of the shower and quickly wraps a towel around her body. She approaches the bathroom vanity and wipes her hand through the steam that had collected on the surface of the mirror to get a closer look at her face. She pulls and stretches at the skin around her eyes, wondering if she is starting to see wrinkles or if it is just her imagination. She takes a moment to glance down at her phone and presses a button on the side, illuminating the front screen display on her Razr. Four-thirty. She allows a sigh of relief to escape her lips as she feels justified in her decision to wash her hair last night, allowing her to sleep in a little later than if she tried to wash it this morning. She now has a half-hour to make some coffee, get dressed and start her drive into Manhattan. She nods confidently to her reflection and ties her hair back into a tight ponytail, dries herself off and replaces the towel with her robe.

She pads lightly through the house, trying to make as little noise as possible, taking care not to wake her husband up any earlier than he had to be. While Chandler didn't really understand why she had to drive into the city so early this morning when she doesn't officially start working again until tomorrow, he fully supported her decision and assured her that he would be fine taking care of the twins while she was out of the house all day. He even encouraged her to make a day of it and meet Rachel and Phoebe for brunch.

_"You deserve a day off from us!" _

She smirks a little at the memory of his words from the other day while she measures out enough coffee to fill her travel mug and presses the brew button. She pauses before going back upstairs to reflect on the fact that today will be her first day away from the babies since they were born nearly four months ago. Although she knew Chandler was capable of holding down the fort without her for a few hours, she was still nervous about leaving him alone and got him to reluctantly recruit Ross to visit in the afternoon. Chandler's father was also going to come by for breakfast, so she felt fairly confident that if he got overwhelmed, there would be plenty of helping hands available.

She glides up the stairs quietly and gets herself dressed in the dark from the clothes she had prepared the night before; a black cotton short sleeved shirt and a new pair of jeans. She snagged herself one of Chandler's sweatshirts from the closet and softly slipped on her tennis shoes. September weather in New York could be unpredictable. It goes from hot to cold in an instant as the days try to cling to every last drop of summer while simultaneously ushering in the cool air of autumn. Monica learned early on when she first moved into the city to always carry some extra layers this time of year as a precaution. Before she could exit the bedroom, she hears the familiar, sleepy voice of her husband.

"Mon, you leaving already?"

She turns and slowly approaches the bed. "I'm sorry sweetie, did I wake you? Go back to sleep, I'll call you later on after breakfast to see how you're doing." She sits down on the edge of the bed next to him and runs her fingers lightly through his hair causing a grin to spread across his lips.

"M'kay."

His eyes already closing as she leans down and presses a gentle kiss to his forehead. She eases herself up and quietly leaves the room, closing the door silently behind her. She walks down the hall and carefully opens the door to the twins' room to steal one last look before she has to go, and even though she is still in the house, looking at her babies sleeping, she feels as if she is already missing them. This was definitely going to be the hardest part of going back to work. Not the long hours, rude customers, aching calves, the commute or even the overall lack of sleep she was surely guaranteed; it was the thought that she might miss something important, or that they might need her and she wouldn't be there for them. She understands now why Chandler was so depressed when he went back to work just a few weeks after they moved into the house.

She slinks back downstairs, filling her cup with the now fresh brewed coffee, grabs her purse, jacket and car keys and walks out the front door. She glances over at the two cars in the driveway as she steps off the front porch. The juxtaposition of the two-seater Porsche and the family sized SUV makes their home look practically smug compared to many of the more sensible sedans parked at the other houses on their block. Most of her neighbors probably assuming that it was a car that Chandler couldn't part with, even with two newborn babies. A suburban husband and father clinging to his arrested adolescence. She smiles thinking how ironic that would be since he was the one trying to convince her to trade it in for something more family friendly. No way. She loves this car, and moreover, loves that it drives her brother insanely jealous to see her with it ever since her father gave it to her and not him. She tosses her jacket, purse, and Chandler's sweat shirt on the passenger seat as she slides into the driver's side of this powerful, sleek sportscar and begins her commute into the city.

* * *

After parking the car in a garage downtown, Monica steps out onto the street and checks her watch. Five minutes to six. She made excellent time. Now she has four hours to buy the ingredients she needs and drop them off at Javu before she has to meet Rachel and Phoebe at Central Perk for some muffins, coffee and girl talk. She thinks about how much she needs that. A conversation with other adults besides her husband. While she loves Chandler more than she believes anyone could love another person, she could use a break from his onslaught of jokes about the twins' bodily functions.

As she makes her way up through Tribeca and into Soho, she can't help but feel as if she is back home. Like someone who went away to college and was returning to the streets of their old neighborhood for the first time. As she walks, she traces the familiar path she would take early in the morning before a shift when she used to live here. All the storefronts that she was accustomed to seeing every day for so many years greeting her like an old friend. The recognizable smells and sounds of Manhattan in the early morning making her smile.

She had already planned her morning route the night before to maximize efficiency. First stop is going to be the spice store on Canal. Even though the kitchen at Javu should have most of what she is looking for in stock, she wants to grind a few of the blends herself. Just to be sure they get done correctly. After that, she plans to stop at the green grocer near Washington Square. That particular store always has the best selection of fresh herbs, and there were some spring onions, tomatoes, asparagus, potatoes and yellow squash she is going to need. Next door to that is the butcher that does not open until seven, which means, if everything goes according to plan, she will be the first customer they let inside. She only needs a few things from there; pork chops, hanger steaks, and ground lamb. After that, off to the fish market on Christopher street to pick up some salmon, grouper, bronzini, monk fish and scallops. She always makes sure to buy her seafood last before getting to the restaurant. She has nine new dishes to make and show the staff before she is ready to add them to the menu and she wants to make sure everything she uses is fresh and has been personally selected by her. She chose to do all of this on a Monday since the restaurant is only going to be open for dinner and the staff will not show up until after one in the afternoon, giving her plenty of time to meet with her friends and get back to Javu to prep her stations and to separate and prepare the food.

First thing first, she is going to step into the Italian bakery just on the corner and indulge in her favorite place to buy a sfogliatelle. If she is going to get a morning in the city, then she is going to enjoy it. While Monica loves her home in Westchester and she would never trade the life she has now for anything in the world; yet, walking around the streets of Manhattan early in the morning by herself is something that she will never be able to fully give up.

* * *

When she finally reaches Javu and uses her key to get inside, she walks straight into the back of the restaurant. It has been years since she has spent this much time away from a proper kitchen and she is excited to see it again. She places the bags of groceries on the counter and slowly walks around the room. She allows herself a few moments to become reacquainted with the space. Tomorrow will be order chiseled from the chaos of a dinner rush; loud voices, spills, furrowed brows, shouted commands, demanding customers, but right now, there is peace and tranquility in the room. This room that belongs to her.

She lets her fingers run lightly across the stainless steel of the prep station as she walks by. She approaches the flat top stove and allows one of her hands to rest on the ignitor while placing the palm of the other on the surface. The place is just as clean and beautiful as it was when she had last seen it. Although, some things did seem out of place. She takes a few minutes to fix what she sees as a few poorly set up work stations. She reorganizes the knives that were attached to the side of the steel wall with magnetic holders in a different, yet much more efficient order. She slides some of the empty steel bins around on the table, envisioning what ingredient should go in each one and what order made the most sense, ensuring speed and accuracy when adding the last touches to a finished entree. She takes time to move a few things around in the walk-in refrigerator that seems out of place, noting that some boxes of food were not the required two inches apart from each other.

When she finishes straightening up, she sighs happily and begins to remove the items she purchased this morning from her bags. She figures out that she has roughly two hours to prepare all of the food she brought in today for her demonstration later to the rest of the staff before they had to get the kitchen ready for tonight. She wants to get tomorrow's specials menu sorted out quickly so that they can be introduced seamlessly when she officially returns to work. Plus, there is always an extra rush of excitement that travels through her body when the people who work in the restaurant taste a new dish from her and express complete pleasure. She checks her watch once more before starting; she has plenty of time before she has to meet the girls.

* * *

Monica walks towards her old neighborhood and stops before she approaches the doors of Central Perk. She turns around and takes a long look at her old building. She is still bemused that Ross and Rachel didn't want to move in there after her and Chandler left. The living room in her old apartment is much larger than theirs and the spare bedroom would have been perfect for Emma when she got older. Chandler told her he thought maybe they would have felt weird living there. He wondered if, with Joey in L.A. and them in Westchester, that all that extra space would just remind them of the changes that have happened to their group. Gone were the days where six people were coming and going as they pleased in and out of apartment 20, sharing meals, watching television and indulging in stories they've all heard a dozen or so times before. Maybe, by living in that same space, it might actually be depressing without all of those things.

She smiles once more and lets out a laugh as she imagines trying to raise the twins in that apartment. They would be on top of each other all the time, getting on each other's nerves as toys, diapers, clothes and food was strewn all over the place. Items covering every surface as they kept trying to find space for the ever-growing inventory of baby paraphernalia. People bursting in and out as they try to balance naps and feedings and baths. Joey drinking all the formula. It would never have worked.

Monica pulls open the door and walks into the coffee shop. She looks over at the orange couch the gang had found themselves on almost every day for the last ten years, and of course, like always, it is unoccupied. She checks her watch; she's definitely on time, and, as per usual, her friends are late. She huffs a bit and places an order at the counter with Gunther for a blueberry muffin and a cup of cappuccino, and then steps over to the couch, making herself comfortable as she settles down. She leans back and looks around the room. More times than she can count, she would be sitting right here, waiting for one of her friends. Meeting for coffee. More times than not, curled up against Chandler, even before they got together. She smiles at the memories that are flooding through her mind and wonders how he is doing this morning. She bites her lip, but then decides to call him since it looks like she has time while she waits for Rachel and Phoebe.

"Hey sweetie. Just wanted to see how things were going. How are our little bunnies doing? No, I just got to the coffee house to meet them but they aren't here yet so I figured to check in. No. Of course I trust you. I know you can handle it. What? Why would I think you have a house full of drag queens running around….oh my god. Is our house filled with drag queens right now? Well, then why did you say that? Is you dad there? Chandler. No. Do I need to come home? Okay, okay. Just, try to keep the place clean? And when Ross gets there, tell him I say 'hi'. Okay? All right. I love you. I'll see you tonight. No, Phoebe just walked in now. Okay. Bye."

Monica shakes her head, closes her phone and places it back into her purse.

"Monica!" Phoebe bounces over towards the couch and sits down. Her baby bump already showing, even through her loose clothes. Monica looks up at her, her face still twisted slightly in a scornful expression after her conversation with her husband. "Oh, what's wrong?"

"What? Oh nothing. My house may or may not have a large number of drag queens getting adjustments on their outfits in my den. Either that, or there are still some jokes Chandler makes that I will never understand."

Phoebe chuckles and smiles. "Well, I could have told you that. Although if there are drag queens at your house, we should have met for coffee there! That sounds like much more fun than this place."

Monica looks over at her and flashes a reluctant smile. "So, how you feeling Phoebe? How's pregnancy going?"

"Oh, good. We found out what we are having and I already picked out a name, but I wanted to wait for Rachel to get here so I could tell you both."

Monica sits up and starts to squirm a bit in her seat. "C'mon Pheebs! You can't tell me something like that and expect me to wait! You have to tell me now!"

Phoebe shakes her head playfully. "Sorry. You just have to wait."

"I'll get you a cookie."

"Oh! Okay. You drive a hard bargain Mrs. Bing. We're having a girl!" Phoebe clasps her hands together and starts to bounce in her seat excitedly as a wide and genuine smile seems to have been instantly plastered onto her face.

Monica leans over to wrap a tight hug around her friend. "Oh Phoebe! That's wonderful! I'm so happy for you. And you already have a name that you both agree on?"

"Yeah. I told Mike I wanted her to have both my grandmother's names; so she will be Fiona Beatrice Hannigan."

Monica looks off to the side, a puzzled expression on her face. "Your grandmothers weren't named Fiona and Beatrice. Wait a minute! Fiona Beatrice?" Monica begins to stretch out the pronunciation of the name. "Fee-ona Bee-trice? Fee Bea? Phoebe! You named your daughter Fi Bea?"

"Shhhh!" Phoebe waves her hands in Monica's face and looks around the room. "Not so loud! Mike wouldn't let me name her Phoebe so I had to get crafty. He said naming our daughter after me might seem funny but who's laughing now and who is the fool! Ha! Ha!"

Monica glances off to the side and smiles despite herself. "What would you have done if it was a boy?"

"Well, I was going to go with either Finmore or Philip, but with two es. Phee-leep."

Monica rolls her eyes and nods in gratitude to the waiter who walked over and places her order on the table in front of her. "Well, then. I'm glad it was a girl."

Phoebe leans back into the corner of the couch. "So, Chandler is home alone with the babies? Is he ready for that?"

Monica laughs as she eats a small piece of her muffin. "I think so. His father was stopping by this morning and Ross is going over this afternoon, but I really think he would be okay on his own for a day. As long as he followed my detailed instructions. I left a very easy to read one-hundred-and-one page binder that should cover everything that could happen today."

"Even drag queens?"

"Even drag queens."

"Well good for him. I always thought he would be good at this. Remember how he was with the chick and the duck when they first got them? He was so attentive and treated them like they were his babies. I guess in a way we are kind of the same, him and me." Phoebe leans over and breaks a piece of Monica's muffin off in her hand and gobbles it down.

Monica looks up, slightly confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, neither of us really had a family growing up. When we got older though, we had you guys. But, now he has you and the twins. I have Mike and little Fi Bea. I think for us it clicks. It's just something we both probably have been waiting for our whole lives but never really knew it."

Monica smiles and looks down at her lap. "I guess you're right. He is good at it. He doesn't always think so, but he is really good at it. I'm sure you will be too Pheebs."

"Oh please. Like that was ever in doubt." Phoebe leans back smugly and turns her head as she hears the door open to the coffee house. She smiles as she sees Rachel walk in.

Rachel rushes over to her friends and leans in to kiss them both on the cheek as she flusters a bit with her purse and coat. "Hello. Hello. I'm sorry I'm late." She rests herself down on the chair next to the couch. "So, Mon; going back to work tomorrow? Excited? Nervous?"

"A little of both actually."

Phoebe shoots up in her seat. "Ooo. You know what is a good thing to do that helps with all that anxiety? You think of your top five memories. Then, you're no longer nervous because you're thinking about those things. It works better too if you can remember stuff from your past lives." Phoebe points at Rachel. "I wouldn't go there if I were you. There were some dark days." She then turns her attention back to Monica. "Quick, Mon. What's your top five memories?"

Monica stiffens up a bit and shakes her head as if unsure exactly what to say. "I don't know, I mean, I guess the twins being born. Oh, and my wedding day. The day I got engaged. London." She ducks her head sheepishly at that.

Rachel leans in. "You need one more Mon."

"Oh! I got it! When Joey broke Chandler's Barcalounger and he had to throw it away."

Both girls look over at each other and simultaneously respond. "Really?"

"That chair was a thorn in my side for two years. I almost hired somebody to steal it."

All three women laugh for a bit and then they fall quiet. Each deep in reflective thought. Rachel looks up towards Monica. "Hey, Mon. Do you know all those things you said have something to do with Chandler? What about getting your first head chef job, or graduating?"

Monica purses her lips. "I guess those were just the first things that came to mind. Everything I always wanted when I was a little girl didn't come about until I got together with Chandler. Do not repeat this to him or he will be impossible to live with, but he kind of made all my dreams come true. Even Javu; he had to go to Tulsa and it took him all of twenty seconds to support me staying home and taking this job. I don't know if I could have done that without him being on board."

Rachel lets out a laugh and sits back again. "Oh boy. Ross would never have gone for that. We probably would have fought about it for weeks!"

Monica immediately thinks to herself, _"Well, we aren't you and my brother." _But she bites her tongue. "Oh, Rach! You haven't heard yet! Pheebs! Share your big news!"

* * *

Monica walks briskly down the street towards Javu with her jacket in her hands. Enjoying the feel of the afternoon sun on her face. At twelve-thirty she still has plenty of time to set up before the kitchen staff shows up for the dinner rush.

_"Won't they be surprised when they walk in and I'm standing there with all that food." _

Since Javu doesn't open until four, she was confident that she could run through all of her recipes and they would still have enough time to prepare the restaurant's usual menu for today. As she walks in, she sees the Maître D, Geoffrey already there, doing some pre-opening checklist work. He looks up at her, visibly surprised that she is there.

"Uh, um, hey, Monica. How are you? I thought you weren't coming in until tomorrow?"

"I wanted to just shake off some rust and I came up with a few new ideas I wanted to test out on everyone. I hope you like Bao buns! I can't wait to hear all the new jokes you've come up with over the last few months since I've been gone!" Monica beams with giddy euphoria at already falling back into her work routine.

Geoffrey nods and offers a weak smile. "Did you call Frank or Dave and tell them you were coming in today? I think they hoped to talk to you on your first day back."

"Oh really? The owners want to wish me luck? Maybe they are just dying to see some of my baby picture. Which, I have a lot of. I can't wait to show you guys!" Monica's excitement is almost palpable.

Geoffrey, still looking uneasy, starts to stammer a bit. "Oh, yeah, but also, well, I guess some things have changed a little since you left and they just wanted to prepare you."

"I know. I was here earlier. I mean, who sets up a prep table like that. Anyway, I'm going to go back there to see the guys. I'll talk to you later. I got pictures for the whole waitstaff to check out!"

Monica points both her fingers at Geoffrey and playfully shakes them up and down as she backs her way into the kitchen entrance. She turns, surprised to see so many of the members of the staff already in and prepping their stations.

"Wow, guys. What's going on? Do we open earlier on Mondays now?"

One of the workers in the kitchen looks up at her; his face expressing worry as he seems distracted. "Chef! What are you doing here?"

"I came in to show you guys some new dishes. Why is everyone here so early?"

"Well, there's been a few changes since you went out on maternity leave and…"

Before he could finish a voice bellows out loudly from the walk-in refrigerator. "Which one of you numb-nuts messed up my fridge? And what is this crap in here? Who put this fish in here?"

A dish flies out of the walk-in and crashes to the floor. Monica looks down to see the monk fish she set in a marinade earlier now smashed on the ground, liquid and broken pieces scattered across the tiles. Monica storms angrily over towards the walk-in.

"Who the hell just did that! Who is throwing my food around and making a mess in my kitchen!"

A tall, dark haired man steps out of the refrigerated room. He is wearing a chef's coat that is sloppily buttoned and his eyes seem red and puffy. He steps out and strolls past Monica. "You're kitchen? This is my kitchen. Who the hell are you lady?"

Monica angrily blows hair out of her eyes and jabs an admonishing finger in the mans face. "I'm Monica Geller. Head chef of this restaurant!"

The man starts to laugh. "Lady, are you crazy? I'm the head chef of this restaurant."

She steps back, almost in a state of shock and her eyes open wildly with rage. "What did you just say?"

He steps over to her, looks her up and down, almost leering at her form as he drinks her in. "I said. I am the head chef of this restaurant. Now get out of my kitchen!"


	9. Life's a Drag

**Life's a Drag**

Chandler rolls over and lifts his head from the pillow to look at the baby monitor on the bedside table. Still no sound coming from either of the twins. He worries that perhaps the volume is too low, so he reaches over and turns the dial up until he can hear the ambient sounds from the nursery through the speaker. He buries his head into his pillow again and pulls the comforter up to his shoulders as he closes his eyes. He knows he should try to get back to sleep and take advantage of the quiet morning that the twins are gifting him, but his mind, for some twisted reason he cannot begin to comprehend, will not let him drift back off into dreamland. It is as if his body subconsciously knows he will be alone for today and is forcing him to behave responsibly.

It used to be so easy to sleep late without feeling guilty about it. Before he moved in with Monica, he could stay in bed until noon if he wanted to. Now, after five years and waking up early almost every morning with her and her unbridled, practically inexhaustible energy, he can no longer sleep past six-thirty. Even now, with no one disturbing him, and no urgent need to get out of bed, he finds that he has already been awake for over a half-hour. It seems that now, long before the alarm is set to go off, his body is trained to get up, despite his protests.

_"Dammit! I'm turning into Monica!"_

He pulls the pillow away from his face and looks at the clock on the bedside table. Six-forty-five. He imagines Monica is already done with the errands she had wanted to run before she met with Rachel and Phoebe and is now probably running a half-marathon through Manhattan or alphabetizing some poor newspaper vendor's booth for fun.

_"Where does she get the energy."_

Realizing that trying to fall back asleep is now a hopeless endeavor, he swings his legs across the bed and sits up. Rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands and then sliding them up to the top of his head as he scratches haphazard lines through his scalp.

"Coffee. I can have coffee. I can read the paper and have coffee and be an adult for a little while before Jack and Erica wake up."

It has been just over four months since the twins were born and, not by coincidence, it has also been just over four months since the last time Chandler was able to enjoy a fresh, hot brewed cup of coffee first thing in the morning. He almost forgot what it feels like to sip down that warm, invigorating, dark elixir as he idly flips through a newspaper in the comfort of his own home. He has tried to time it out right before, but it seems with the twins, no matter what hour he brews a fresh pot, it never works out. Once the coffee is made, something always comes up. The babies both need to be changed or fed or they might just be crying for no reason at all. Then there's always one more thing he has to get from the top of the linen closet for his wife or one more chore that needs to be done and next thing he knows it has been forty-five minutes and the coffee has gone cold. Not today. The babies are still asleep. Monica is not there to hound him with some arbitrary task to complete or one more to do list to go over. His only work obligation is a staff meeting that he can call into while his dad is over watching the twins. There is absolutely nothing that is going to stand in the way between him, a hot cup of coffee and blissful peace.

He bounces out of the bed and doesn't even bother to put on pants; deciding that his undershirt and boxers are formal enough attire for what he is already thinking of dubbing "A Day at Casa de Chandler". He is the boss today. He will be making all of the decisions. More accurately, he gets to make all of the decisions Monica's eight-page instructions for today allows him to make.

_"Well, at least I can decide what I am going to wear!" _

He practically dances his way into the kitchen and measures out enough coffee to make half a pot. He fills it with water and hits the brew button, letting out an excited, yet quiet "Waapaa!" as he presses it down. While the coffee brews, he walks through the living room and steps outside the front door to pick up the newspaper that is lying neatly on the stoop.

When they first moved in, finding their daily paper was a mystery only Agatha Christie could have conjured up. They would find it in the bushes, under the car, in the street and one time, they even found it on the roof. Everyday it was thrown carelessly in some random place near the vicinity of their home. By the end of their first two weeks in the house, Monica was fed up and had enough. One morning she decided to wake up early and wait outside so she could confront the man who delivered their paper. It wasn't until six in the morning that she finally spied his station wagon slowly moving down the street as he flung newspapers from the driver's side window at the other houses in the neighborhood. She scurried down the driveway and snatched their paper out of the air as he threw it. She slammed her hands down onto his hood, no doubt scaring the hell out of him, and gave him a stern lecture. Ever since that day, the paper was not only always on their stoop but it was lined up perfectly on the welcome mat as if he used a ruler to measure the margins. It was also delivered every morning at five-thirty exactly. Chandler labeled her "Monica Bing the suburban commando" that day, and she wore the name with pride.

He smirks at the memory as he rolls out the paper and steps back inside the house. The aroma from the coffee reaching out to him like tendrils as he practically floats into the kitchen. He sits down and kicks his feet up on an unoccupied chair as he waits for the machine to finish. A satisfied smile on his face. Then, just as the coffee maker beeps signaling it had completed brewing the pot, he hears it. As if on purpose, or choreographed by a cruel god, from over the monitor, a baby grunts. Then there are some gurgles, and finally, the sound of a cry. Chandler looks over at the coffee pot with a forlorn expression.

"Oh come on!"

He slaps his paper down onto the table, reluctantly rises from his chair, and heads upstairs into the twins bedroom. Before even reaching the second floor, he knows who is up first. Erica. The first noise of the day is always Erica. The women in his life conspiring against him early in the morning. It was a daily routine in the Bing home. Erica gets up and starts crying, which sets off Jack. Like a twisted symphony of wailing babies, which would only get louder as the minutes tick by. As he reached their cribs, he found them in a state of near hysterics. Two babies, wailing as if they were abandoned in some dark alleyway instead of snuggled up safely in their own room.

"Hey there baby girl. Big guy. What's all the fussing about?"

Chandler bends down to pick up his daughter and as his face get closer to her, he pulls back, grimacing and turning his head.

"Oh my god. That is not something that a human baby should be capable of producing."

He holds her out, away from him as he carries her over to the changing table.

"We have got to look into your diet."

He pulls off the sleep-sack and pajamas, tossing them in the laundry basket and quickly changes her diaper. He then brings her over to the playpen they have set up in the room and places her on her stomach.

"Never too early for exercising little girl. Let's see what you can do."

Erica gurgles a bit and lets out a sound that just seems to be a random noise as she lifts herself up and supports her head, turning around and then looking right at her father.

"Don't look at me like that. I don't need to exercise; I can already hold my head up."

He walks over toward Jack, leaving Erica to reach and stretch for some of the objects in the playpen. He scoops his son up in his arms, takes a sniff, and nods.

"That's my boy. Just hold onto it until Mom comes home."

He changes his son quickly and pulls on the outfit Monica had laid out for him.

"Okay Jackie boy. Now your turn to squirm around and do baby stuff while I throw some clothes on your sister and then we can get you guys breakfast."

He places Jack on his stomach as well and looks down.

"Just copy your sister. See what she's doing, just do that."

He turns to look over at Erica who is laying on her side trying to stuff her foot in her mouth.

"Okay. New plan. Don't copy your sister. She's weird."

He lifts Erica from the playpen and dresses her in the other outfit Monica left out. He carries her back over and lays her down inside and then sits up next to them, watching his children stretch, reach, grab each other's feet, stuff toys in their mouths and make noises. Erica strings some consonant and vowel sounds together while Jack is still stuck on "ooo" or "aaa".

After roughly ten minutes of watching his children, Chandler stands up and sighs. "Okay guys, we are probably already behind mom's schedule. Let's go downstairs and get something to eat. Jack, you're first."

He lifts Jack up and quickly walks him downstairs, placing him in the enclosure they have set up in the den. He then jogs back up to retrieve Erica and plops her down next to her brother. He no longer has the confidence to carry both babies at the same time. They squirm and shift too much for that now. He walks over to the kitchen, puts together two bottles of formula, grabs a jar of pureed fruit Monica had prepared for them out of the fridge and snags a baby-sized spoon from the cutlery drawer. He turns for a moment and looks at the coffee pot, the light on the warmer shuts off and he just mutters under his breath as he moves back into the den. He sets up two boppy pillows on either side of the couch and props each baby in one. He then sits down between then and starts to bottle feed the twins at the same time. They tug a bit at the bottles and he encourages them to try to hold them on their own, but they are still too young for that to work.

"So, what should we talk about this morning? Any ideas? How about, the magical tale of John McClain and The Nakatomi Plaza?"

* * *

After Chandler finished feeding the twins and got himself dressed, he changes their diapers one more time and lays them back down in the enclosed playpen in the den. He walks over to the CD tower next to the stereo and runs his fingers up and down one of the rows.

"Okay kids, what'll it be this morning? Les Misérables or Phantom of the Opera?"

He turns to look over at Jack and Erica as they shift around on the floor, touching each other and the toys that he had placed in there with them. Jack's face looks troubled as he can't seem to reach the soft, fabric block laying only a few inches away from him. He begins to grunt angrily and then makes a sound akin to a whimper. This combination of noises seems to set Erica off who begins to sob. Chandler turns back to the rack and pulls out a CD.

"Les Misérables it is!"

With the music playing low, Chandler walks over and tries to soothe his children. He knocks the block over towards Jack and picks Erica up, rocking her as he begins to hum along to the song playing on the radio. A few minutes go by and he hears a knock on the front door before it swings open. As the song continues to play, he hears his father's voice join in the chorus and Chandler smiles down at Erica as she seems to have settled and places her back in the pen.

"Hey dad."

Charles walks into the den, wearing purple track pants and a light purple, long-sleeve shirt. He looks over at the twins with a grin on his face. "How are these babies doing?"

"Not bad. I think we just avoided a meltdown. They'll probably fall asleep again soon."

Charles hands his son a brown paper bag. "I brought you a couple of croissants. Do you have any coffee?"

Chandler laughs. "Yes. There's a half pot in the kitchen."

Charles walks away as Chandler takes out one of the croissants and begins to eat it. His father calls from the other room, "Son, this coffee is ice cold. I'll make a fresh pot." Chandler smirks and continues to hum to the music as he sits down on the floor next to the babies.

Charles walks back into the den and sits down on the couch. His cell phone rings in his pocket and he fumbles with it to silence it before it disturbs the twins docile mood.

"Oh, sorry, son. Let me take this." He flips it open and puts the receiver to his ear. "Hello. What? What! Oh no. This could be a disaster. Okay. Well, I have to help my son out this morning, can we do it later? All right, let me ask." He pulls the phone down and looks over at Chandler. "Son, there's some sort of costume emergency. Do you mind if someone brings over a few outfits for me to check? I promise it won't be a big deal. You'll hardly know we're here."

Chandler looks around the room and shrugs his shoulder reluctantly. "Sure, I guess. But I really need you to watch the twins while I am on the phone later, okay?"

"Of course! This shouldn't take more than an hour." Charles puts the phone back up to his ear. "Okay. Bring them over here. The address is on the refrigerator. Okay, I'll see you later." He hangs up and puts the phone back into his pocket. "I'm sorry son, we are starting a whole new production and we have a dress rehearsal tonight. If these costumes aren't completed today it could really mess things up."

"No problem dad. Just use the living room for whatever you need. These two look like they might be ready to go back down soon anyway, I'll bring them upstairs. They'll probably be out for a few hours anyway."

Chandler leans down and picks up Jack as his father walks over to grab Erica. "Let me help."

They walk the babies upstairs into the nursery. Charles helps Chandler put them in new diapers and they lay them down in their cribs. Chandler sits down in one of the rocking chairs and Charles settles into the other one.

"I normally wait them out a little, just to make sure they go down." Chandler shifts a bit in his seat and looks over at his father who is straining to watch the babies. "So, this new show. What's it about? I mean, besides penises and bare-chested male dancers."

Charles chuckles lightly. "Well, we had this idea that we would parody a classic film and it took us a while to think of which one fit and we finally decided on 'The Godfather'. Only our show will be called 'The Drag Mother'." Charles purses his lips and begins to impersonate Marlon Brando. "We're going to make him an offer he can't refuse."

Chandler, looking puzzled, turns to his father. "What is the offer?"

Charles chuckles again. "Bare-chested male dancers."

"There it is." The doorbell rings and Chandler smirks. "And there that is, you might as well get it. It is probably for you."

Charles nods and makes his way out of the room and quickly pads his way downstairs. Chandler stands up and walks over to the cribs. Both babies are already sound asleep. He pushes Jack slightly so he is not wedged up in the corner and smiles.

"Guys, please never learn the words to 'It's Raining Men'. I think one generation of Bings having to sing that is enough."

Chandler tilts his head as he suddenly hears what sounds like several different voices coming from downstairs. Some loud. Some shushing, and some singing along to the music that is still playing from the stereo in the den. Chandler decides to go downstairs to investigate.

When he walks into the living room, his eyes widen as his mouth goes agape. In his living room stood several men and his father.

"Dad?"

"What? Oh, well, they needed to try the outfits on. You don't mind, do you son?"

Chandler looks around at the crowd in his house. He quickly counts ten people piling into his living room and den from the front door. A few of them link arms and start to sing along to the Les Misérables soundtrack. Chandler puts his hands up and gestures in surrender. He backs out of the room and walks towards the kitchen.

"I'm thirteen all over again. I'm in a house full of gay men singing show tunes."

He pulls down a mug from the cabinet and walks over to the coffeemaker to discover that the pot is missing.

"Dad, where's the coffee?"

"I brought it in here. A couple of the fellas aren't used to being up this early. Do you have any low calorie sweetener?"

Chandler shakes his head in disbelief and looks over at the clock. Nine-thirty. His meeting in is an hour and Ross should be over by eleven. He sits down at the table, finishes off the rest of his croissant, and reads the paper. In the background, he can hear the men in his living room squabbling and singing. He starts to bob his head to the music.

"These guys aren't half bad. Is one of them a baritone?"

The doorbell rings and before he can get up, somebody from the group walks over to the door and lets in another visitor from his father's show. Chandler cranes his neck to listen and finds out his new guest's name is Maurice, and he brought donuts and wigs. Chandler begins to slink down in his chair and pulls the newspaper up to cover his face when the phone rings and he rushes over to answer, jumping at the opportunity to block out all the noise coming from the other room that is flooding his brain with memories from his awkward adolescence.

"Hello. Oh, hey Monica. Everything is going fine. The babies are sleeping. They ate and played a little. Are you still shopping? Oh, okay. Checking up on me? You know you can trust me, right? It isn't like I have a house full of drag queens trying on dresses and wigs and singing songs from the second act of Les Misérables. What? No, no. I was just joking. Just making a very specific joke. Yes, my dad is here. No, stay in the city. Everything is fine. I will keep it clean. I love you too. Are the girls there yet? Oh, okay. Well, call me when you are on the way home. Okay, bye."

He hangs up the phone as a young muscular man who looks to be in his early twenties enters the kitchen without a shirt on and places the empty coffee pot on the table. "Your dad said to bring this in here. Can we get more coffee?"

"I'll make coffee as long as you get your abs out of here. I don't need all of that" he waves his hand around in the vicinity of the man's chest, "all up in here." He then waves his hands around his own midsection. The young man shrugs and walks back into the living room.

Chandler begins to rinse out the pot to prepare it for another batch of coffee and he hears someone call from outside the kitchen, "Oh, can we play this 'Hello Dolly' disc next?" to which he hears his father respond. "Okay, but the volume stays where it is. I have two grand-babies sleeping upstairs and if any of you wake them you are out of the show!" Chandler smiles as he hears a chorus of shocked gasps in response to his father's threat and finishes setting up the coffee.

As it starts to brew his phone rings again. "Hello. Oh, hey Charlie. They pushed the meeting up? Five minutes? Okay, that actually might be good for me. Let me just put you on hold so I can get set up. What? Oh, the noise? You mean to tell me you have never heard eight drag queens singing 'Every Day' from the Les Miz soundtrack? Well then my friend you have not lived, or should I say, you have not suffered enough childhood embarrassment that something like this doesn't even phase you anymore."

* * *

Once his conference call concludes, Chandler makes his way back downstairs. He decides to go in the kitchen and get a cup of coffee but when he gets there, the pot is empty again.

"Can't you guys drink chardonnay in the morning like a respectable drag queen stereotype?"

He hears the Chicago soundtrack playing as there is a din of chattering between the people in the other room. He takes time to make another pot of coffee when he hears a knock on the door.

A voice he does not recognize, calls out. "I got it! Ooo. Well, hello tall, dark and handsome. I don't remember ordering one of you?"

He then hears the unmistakable stammering of a blindsided and incredibly uncomfortable Ross Geller.

"Uh, is Chandler here? Am I at the right house? Is that the music from Chicago?"

Chandler gets up and walks over to the door. "Yes, this is the right house, but it is somehow an entrance way into the past. It is now 1983 and I am fifteen, surrounded by my father's coworkers. Jump right in buddy, the water is dysfunctional."

Ross, clearly shaken up, enters the room.

"Ross! How are you." Charles steps out from behind someone being fitted and extends his hand. "I haven't seen you since the wedding."

Ross, still thrown by the crowd in Chandler's house weakly shakes Charles' hand. "Uh, yeah. I was told I was here to help take care of the twins." He peers into the living room again. "Hey, are those donuts?"

One of the men looks over. "Sorry honey, the twins got cut from the show."

Charles looks back into the room. "He means the babies, not Miss Thing One and Two."

A chorus of "ohhhs" fills the room. Ross shakes his head and Chandler silently directs him to make his way to the kitchen.

"Chandler, what is going on?"

Before responding, Chandler glances over to the counter and sees that the pot of coffee is gone again. "Come on! Those sequin dress wearing coffee hogs!"

A voice from the other room calls out. "Hey! We aren't dogs!"

Chandler, slightly annoyed charges back "I said hogs! Coffee hogs!"

"Oh, okay then!"

Ross, still bewildered looks around the room. "Um. Chandler?"

"My dad came here to help with the twins, then he got a phone call about some work emergency. I don't see why you're confused. Everything is perfectly normal around here. If perfectly normal meant turning my living room into a gay burlesque drag show."

Ross lets out a nervous laugh and takes his coat off. Charles walks back into the kitchen with an empty coffee pot.

"Ross my boy! Can you help us out? How tall are you?"

Ross looks back and stutters a bit. "Uh, six-one."

"Great! Great!" Charles clasps his hands on each of Ross' shoulders and pats them roughly. "And you have the right build! We need you to stand on this stool and help us with this one dress."

"Okay, sure. What do you want me to do? Hold it up or something?"

"Oh no. Nothing like that. We just need you to put it on and let us mark it off for adjustments. Heidi Hoe isn't going to make it and we need this done for her tonight."

Ross shakes his head vehemently. "Uh, I'm not putting on a dress."

"Oh you have to. I mean, you definitely have the body for it."

Ross allows a sheepish grin to spread across his lips. "Well, I have been working out."

Charles pats him on the shoulder again. "Look, it will just be for a minute. I promise. We just need someone your height and build to do this. Heidi will be eternally grateful. I think you would have made a smashing good performer!"

Ross now looks over at Chandler smugly. "I would have made a good performer. You know, I played keyboards in college."

Charles grins and winks at Chandler. "I did not know that. I bet you were very good. You have the fingers of a pianist."

Ross looks at his hands and wiggles his fingers. "That's what I always said!" Now, drunk with flattery, Ross straightens up proudly. "I'll do it, but it has to be quick." He then turns back sharply to Chandler. "And this stays between us! No one finds out! Not even Monica!"

Chandler, speaking in an exaggerated yet reassuring tone, nods. "Of course it will! I would never tell a soul about this."

As Ross disappears into the living room, Chandler goes upstairs to check on the twins. When he returns downstairs, he sees Ross already standing on a chair as two of the men who came in earlier are arguing about where to mark of a chalk line and where to stick the pins.

"Looking good Geller."

Ross turns around with a slightly proud smile. "I know. They said I would have been a great drag queen because of my figure!"

Suddenly a flash fills the room causing Ross to blink and rub his eyes. He hears the sound of a shutter going off again as he tries to clear up his momentary blindness.

"What? Chandler! No!"

Chandler, shaking out a Polaroid photo in his hand as he snaps another picture starts to laugh. "What! I said I wouldn't tell anyone. This isn't telling."

Ross prepares himself to leap off the stool towards Chandler, but suddenly howls in pain as one of the men accidentally sticks him with a pin.

"Oh, I'm sorry honey. You have to stop moving."

Chandler slips out of the living room. "Yeah Ross, You have to stop moving!"

Ross's eyes widen in anger. "Chandler!"

Chandler scurries down the hall and snickers his way into the kitchen.

* * *

Monica enters the house and looks around instinctively to see if anything seems out of place. She bends down absentmindedly to pull at the runner on the floor by the door to straighten it.

"Chandler?"

"Up here."

Monica drops her keys in the bowl on the credenza next to the front door and hangs her coat up in the hallway closet while slipping off her sneakers and placing them neatly on the shoe rack against the wall. She shakes her head, still furious about the events of the day and treads heavily up the stairs.

"Where are you?"

"Just put on your robe and come in the bathroom!"

"Chandler. I'm not really in the mood."

"Mon, trust me, just do it."

Monica sighs and goes into her bedroom to undress. She emerges a few minutes later and walks into the bathroom. There are candles lit throughout the room, creating a warm and inviting glow. The scents coming from them feeling like an almost spiritual massage. The book she had been reading is neatly settled on a TV tray table along with a glass of wine. Music is playing softly in the background and the tub is filled with bubbles and water so hot she can feel the steam already moistening her skin.

"What is this?"

Chandler turns around, pulling a thermometer out of the water and holding a binder in his other had labeled "Bath Instructions". He takes her hand and pulls her towards him.

"You sounded very stressed out and angry on the phone so I set up bath scenario twelve from the book."

Her eyes close and a weak smile begins to curl the edges of her lips. The first smile she has been able to form in hours. "Mmmm. The 'in case of emergency' bath. How did you know?"

Chandler answers her with a smile. "Go ahead and relax. I'll check on you in an hour? If you still aren't feeling better I have some pictures of Ross in a dress."

* * *

Chandler sits down on the edge of the tub and dips his fingers in the water. He looks over at his wife, who is moving bubbles around, as she remains settled comfortably in the bath. His eyes reflecting his concern as Monica fills him in on how her day was. Her tone is fraught with frustration.

"…and his name is Montgomery. That's just a name that screams 'I'm an ass'!"

"So, what are you going to do?"

"Well, they can't fire me, and it seems like he knew I was coming back. They want us both to be co-head chef. I don't know. I mean, this was supposed to be my kitchen. My menu. Now I have to share it with someone? It isn't fair."

Chandler looks down at the water. "I know. I'm so sorry they did this to you."

"There is some good news. I only have to work four days a week and they can't cut my pay. I'm going to work Wednesday through Saturday and he does Saturday to Tuesday, so I only have to deal with that jerk one night a week. And I can do my own specials, but now we both share the main menu and he changed it so much already." Chandler motions at her wine glass to see if she wants a refill but she shakes her head slightly. and sighs. "I'm just going to have to out-chef him. I'll just be so great and he will be mediocre and I'll beat him and they'll see my nights are better and he'll be gone and I'll get my kitchen back."

"You think that'll work?"

She looks up at him, her eyes betraying her usual self-confidence and exposes a rare vulnerability that she is only comfortable sharing with her husband.

"Honestly? I don't know."

Chandler stiffens up and puffs out his chest. "You know what? I know. You're going to win this. You know why?" She shakes her head weakly. "You're going to win because I'm on your team. And my team always wins."

She smiles up at her husband and reaches a hand out to him, pulling him down by his neck, and kisses him passionately. She pulls back for a moment.

"You really think so?"

Chandler nods. "I do."

Monica pulls him down once more, causing him to topple into the bath with her. She wraps her arms around his neck again as they deepen their kiss while he begins to peel off his wet clothes and tosses them on the bathroom floor.

"I thought you weren't in the mood."

"What can I say? You know how to turn me on."


	10. Bitter Harvest

**Bitter Harvest**

It has been almost two months since Monica discovered that Chef Montgomery James was working at Javu. She was furious at first, wondering how the owners of the restaurant could replace her so callously. She thought that would have been illegal, given that she was on maternity leave. After the initial shock wore off from her first encounter with him, she went outside and called Phoebe and Mike so she could get some free legal advice. It was out of Mike's purview, but he was able to scrounge up enough information to at least assuage her fears about her chances of having continued employment.

She wasn't completely satisfied though until she finally sat down and talked to the owners, Frank and Dave. They assured her she was still the head chef, albeit with a change in the dynamics. Alberto, the sous chef she had been working with ever since she started at Javu, received an offer to be the head chef of his own kitchen at a restaurant in Chicago. With no head chef and no sous chef, the owners became desperate and made some call to friends of theirs in the industry to see if there was anyone looking for temporary work to cover until Monica returned. They were given Montgomery's number and brought him in, but only a few weeks later, he received his own offer for a job at a different restaurant in the city. Faced with either matching the offer or searching for yet another head chef, they decided to make his position permanent.

Monica was surprised and asked why they never called her when they ran into trouble staffing the kitchen, but that was when they told her their plan: two head chefs. They were convinced it would work. Monica and Montgomery would split the week up and work together on Saturdays. They told her how it would make planning vacation days or arranging for time off due to family emergencies much easier. They also thought it could allow the restaurant to have an interesting menu, a mix of both chef's distinct flavors, causing a buzz of excitement at the prospect that people wouldn't know what to expect when they came there to eat.

Monica was skeptical that two dominating, strong personalities could survive, working the same job in the same space, but she really didn't have any choice. To his credit, Montgomery was much more open to sharing the menu, and Monica had to begrudgingly admit, he was a fine chef with some innovative ideas. He was a little obnoxious, sloppy, and he hit on all the waitresses and even some of the customers, but he was receptive to Monica's opinions and seemed to respect her as a chef. She still had some concerns, but she felt better once she had taken back over half of the regular menu.

She actually found that she liked her new schedule, working one less day a week has given her a boost of energy, and she gets to see the babies more often. Chef James has even proven to be more flexible than his first impression had led Monica to believe, and he had no problem swapping shifts with her so she could be home and celebrate the twins six-month birthday which was only a few weeks away.

It was Saturday, and that was when the two of them worked together. It was normally a race to see who could get in the restaurant first, in order to decide who ran the kitchen. Whoever got in the earliest would start setting up the recipes for the specials that they wanted to offer that night, organize the kitchen, and run the entire operation with the other acting as a glorified sous chef. For Monica, it was important to be able to take the lead when it came to the special's menu; the restaurant made the highest profit margin off those added items, and that meant that there was a good chance it would catch the owners' eyes when a specific dish sold very well. Even though Monica was learning to adapt to this new work arrangement, she was still determined to prove that she was the better chef, and therefore, deserved to be the only head chef at Javu.

Unfortunately for Chef James, Monica was never late. She would find herself at the kitchen, hours earlier than she had to be, normally suppressing a triumphant smile when Montgomery would come in, shocked at how far along she already was into the day's preparations. She felt as if she may finally have exerted enough authority in the restaurant and that he might actually be starting to take a back seat to her as far as who is the real head chef. It helped that his work ethic, while good, was not even in the same ballpark as Monica's. Her attention to detail and high energy during a dinner shift were unparalleled and it forced him to almost instinctively take a supportive role to her on the night they occupied the same kitchen.

Tonight, was going to be a little different. Tomorrow was October 31st, and Monica was too busy preparing the house for the twins first Halloween to get in as early as she normally would. Although Chandler had offered to help so she could leave on time, Monica had the uncontrollable urge to ensure everything was ready on her own. Since the holiday fell on a Sunday, she invited everyone to come over; her parents, Chandler's father, Ross, Rachel, Ben and Emma, and even Phoebe and Mike. It would be a full house and she wanted everything to be perfect.

Monica made sure to add every detail when she decorated the house. There were cobwebs made from cotton and white frayed yarn, paper pumpkins hanging from the ceiling, and playful monster character decals pressed up against the walls. They had orange and black streamers strewn across the ceiling in each room and bowls filled with candy everywhere. She set up games where the kids would have to reach into covered bowls labeled fingers, eyeballs, and teeth, which were really carrot sticks, gumballs and candy corn.

Outside she had carved pumpkins displayed on the porch, plastic pumpkin lights that ran down the driveway and she even found a handmade witch and ghost, sewn together out of fabric, at the craft fair that she and Chandler took the twins to last month. They were connected to stakes and planted into the ground near the front door. When they found the woman's booth, filled with all kinds of stuffed characters to use as decorations, Monica appeared as if she was going to buy the entire collection, but Chandler was able to talk her out of it, and they settled on just the two.

Then there was the candy. She had candy corn in bowls, and little bags filled with assorted mini chocolate bars or sweets like taffy, jellybeans, and licorice. She had a small amount of larger, full-size chocolate bars for Emma and Ben, and she had dozens of pieces of chocolate that she made, individually wrapped, that she couldn't wait to share with the neighborhood children. As far as Monica was concerned, her candy was going to be the way to win over their neighbors. Who would want a tootsie roll when they could have one of her homemade treats? She was preparing herself to become a legend on the block. The lady with the amazing candy that everyone wanted.

While Chandler was sweet enough to offer to do something to help, he simply did not know the system, and it was going to take longer to teach it to him than it would for Monica to do it herself. Instead, he did his part by taking care of the twins. Now at five months old they were starting to sleep through the night; they still woke up around five, which Chandler, still not a morning person, groaned about. The one thing that he did get to enjoy, now that the twins were sleeping more regularly, was all the sex they were having. Monica was a fan of that as well, often initiating, as if she were making up for lost time. The first five months felt like they were barely intimate, both tired at different times of the day; both working or focusing on some household chore. Worse would be when the babies would keep waking up and interrupting them when they did finally find some time alone to be with each other. It was frustrating for the both of them. Now though, thanks to the new sleep schedule, they've felt closer to each other than they had in months.

The twins were also starting to sit up on their own for longer periods of time. Wobbling about while their tiny hands gripped and pulled at toys. It provided Chandler with endless hours of amusement to see them teeter and totter and sometimes fall over onto the pillows they would have set up as a precaution. They'd babble a lot more as well, and Monica would melt as she heard their tiny, unintelligible voices when they tried to express that they were happy or frustrated. Chandler would quip that it was like living with a couple of despots; they were demanding, had terrible hairstyles, and he couldn't understand a word they would say. He even began referring to them as "the two little dictators", which Monica was not a fan of.

On Saturday morning, Monica told Chandler she needed to do one more thing for Halloween. Chandler noted to himself that this week had been filled with endless mentions of "one more thing" to do. He would have made a joke, but he could see the stress Monica was putting herself under and knew it would not be well received. He also knew that with her working that night and feeling the pressure of a time crunch, she would never be able to give whatever it was that she perceived as a critical detail to add to tomorrow's festivities her full attention with him and the babies in the house, so he took the twins for a long walk around the neighborhood. When he returned the house smelled of savory sweetness.

"Mon. What did you do?"

"I used the pulp from the jack-o-lanterns and seasoned it to make some pies! Now I have the pumpkin seeds roasting in the oven. Just a little sea salt and they will be a great treat to have for tomorrow."

Chandler looked around the room, bowls of candy covering almost every surface. "Oh, good. I was worried we wouldn't have anything to snack on."

Monica looked down sheepishly and tried not to let him see the smile she had as a reaction to his joke. "Whatever. This is their first Halloween and I want it to be perfect."

"I know. It's a good thing too, because that newborn down the street has been bragging all week about what his mom was doing for tomorrow and I think it made Jack and Erica jealous." Chandler dropped his sarcastic tone and walked over to his wife, placing his hands on her waist. "Mon. They're babies. They don't know what tomorrow is. You shouldn't have run yourself so ragged doing this."

"Well, I know what tomorrow is and I wanted this. I want tons of pictures of them in their cute little costumes and I want the house to smell like candy and children ringing the doorbell. I want everyone telling me how amazing it was and for people to rave to us all year about my chocolate!"

Chandler pulled her in closer to him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "You just want to be everyone's favorite house on the block, don't you?" He leaned down to kiss her and could feel her grinning against his lips. Monica pressed her body into his, allowing herself to enjoy the intimacy and melt into him. "So, you working with the guy with the backwards name tonight?"

Monica laughed. "Yes. I'm working with Montgomery. Why?"

"That name is so pretentious." Chandler used a mocking tone and spoke as if her were some upper class New York yuppie. "Mitzie, you simply must come with me to see Montgomery".

Monica playfully slapped him on his chest. "Oh, he actually isn't that bad."

Chandler ran his hands up and down Monica's sides as he played with the fabric of her shirt. "I don't like the guy. He has a weird name. His last name is a first name and his first name is a last name. It's weird."

Monica chuckled and then adopted an exaggerated, rueful smile. "I know. It isn't a normal name like Chandler Muriel Bing."

Chandler feigned shock and pretended his feeling were hurt. "Ow. That cut deep. I'm going to kill Ross for telling you that." He leaned over and gave her a kiss under her jawline. "When do you have to leave? The walk put the babies to sleep. What do you say you and I…" Chandler wiggled his eyebrows, gave her an obnoxiously slow wink, and nodded his head.

Monica pulled back from him and began to untie her apron. "Are you having a seizure?"

"What? No. I'm being seductive."

Monica folded up her apron and hung it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. She then grabbed Chandler by the hand. "You might want to work on that." She looked over at the clock. "Well, I don't have a lot of time. You might have to be fast."

Chandler grinned at her and turned to bring her towards the stairs. "I will. I promise. You won't even know I was there!"

Monica shook her head and rolled her eyes. The two of them shared a laugh and then scurried up the stairs and into their bedroom.

* * *

Monica enjoyed her late morning sex. Whenever it happened, it felt like a wonderful surprise. Something she had no idea that she needed or craved that always helped relieve most of the tension she would carry around with her throughout the day. She never understood why people felt you had to wait until nightfall to have sex. Always going to bed and trying to race against the clock so you could get one in before it got too late and you ended up having trouble waking up for work the next day. She much preferred it in the afternoons. A lazy Sunday, where you could have a late lunch to regain your strength after spending an hour or so exploring each other's body. She loved her long days of sex, food and napping with Chandler when they lived in the apartment. There was no pressure to perform at a specific time. It was just natural, and easy, and fun.

Unfortunately, her favorite distraction now meant that she was running late for work and she found herself racing into the city, which was not a good way to keep her stress levels down. It also did not help that there was heavy traffic on the parkway. When you add to that all the work she did in the kitchen, baking pies, and then having a round and a half of day sex, she knew there was no way she was going to beat Montgomery to the restaurant. She wasn't thrilled with the idea of having to let him run the kitchen, and as she drove in, she contemplated coming up with some excuse that would force him to hand over the reins for the night. She abandoned that idea fairly quickly, worried it could negatively affect their deal to let the first person in run things. Which normally worked out to her benefit. She finally resigned herself to her fate as she convinced herself that she could handle it for one night.

When she did finally arrive at Javu, Chef James was in the lobby, writing the specials on the chalkboard that would go out in lobby by the front door. She took a glance and rolled her eyes. He loved using teriyaki way too much for her liking, and two of the three entrees were much too similar. She just shrugged her shoulders and made her way into the kitchen to greet the rest of the staff. After making some small talk with most of the line cooks, Monica excused herself to the backroom so she could put her purse, keys and phone in her locker and throw on her chef's coat and hat. Montgomery walked in the room with a pad he was studying.

"Monica. I'm glad you're here. I wrote out a list of what we're doing tonight. Do you think you can make these sauces for me?" He walked over and handed her the pad. As Monica read it, he leaned over her and put his hands on her shoulders so he could see it as well.

"I can do that. Where's Jerry tonight? He normally does the sauces."

"His sister's wedding. I also could use some help with these sides." He pointed at the list and Monica nodded, affirming she could take care of it. "That's a good girl." He patted her on her hip as he left the room.

Monica froze for a moment. "Good girl?" She shook her head. "This is going to be a long night."

* * *

Monica had already finished the last batch of the spicy teriyaki sauce Chef James had requested. She was preparing to store it when he walked over to her.

"Wait. I know you're Chef Monica Geller and you always make everything perfectly, but I should taste it since this is my kitchen tonight."

Monica rolled her eyes and smirked as he approaches her with his tasting spoon already in his hand. As he leaned over to take some of the sauce, he placed his hand on the small of her back, resting it there longer than Monica was comfortable with. She tried to slide over a few inches to escape his grasp without being too obvious about her intentions. Montgomery did not seem to notice her or how unsettled she was, and mindlessly gave her a thumbs up as he walked away.

Once she completed her preparations for the dinner rush, she wiped down a few of the prep stations and could not help herself as she ran through her own checklist as she made sure everything they needed was out and easy to grab. She took note that the prep stations looked to be organized correctly. Montgomery noticed her inspecting everything and he walked over to her and smiled.

"Don't worry, I have everything set up how you like it. I found that it's just easier that way instead of rearranging everything whenever you aren't here."

Monica smiled. "Well, my way has been working for me for a long time."

"It's a good system, even if it took me a week or so to figure it out." He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze before leaving the kitchen to have a pre-shift meeting with the maître de. Monica folded her arms and looked around. The kitchen did look good. She even noticed the walk-in was set up properly, adhering to all the food safety codes, unlike when she first walked into his kitchen.

_"Maybe it won't be that bad letting him run things for one night."_

* * *

After closing, Monica decided to take a quick inventory while the rest of the staff was cleaning up and storing some of the unused ingredients. Chef James was out front, talking with Geoffrey one more time before he finally entered the kitchen to address the crew.

"Hey guys! This was a good night. Everyone really was amazing tonight. Especially our little lady here."

He reached over and put him arm around Monica's waist, his hand every now and then sliding over to the small of her back. Monica tried to move out of his reach like she normally would when his hand would linger on her for too long, but she found it difficult to do that that as she was squeezed between him and the prep station.

"Monica was able to work in my kitchen all night without giving me a hard time or correcting anything I did."

He turned to her and his tone became slightly sarcastic.

"I know I've only been a head chef for over ten years, but somehow, getting the approval of someone with less experience than me really let me know I have finally made it in this biz."

He looked at her and smirked as he tried to elicit a laugh from her at his joke. Monica can only offer a half-smile; she was still uncomfortably focused on where his hand was.

Montgomery began to rub her back and his hand slowly started to slide down as he traced it along the top of her buttocks. Monica stiffened up.

"A round of applause for Chef Geller."

The rest of the staff look around at each other and begins clapping and Chef Montgomery quickly slips his hand lower, now fully cupping the side of Monica's backside and his finger begins to run too far over as he caressed her ass. Monica's frustration finally boiled over and she jabbed an elbow at him, pushing him back.

"Okay look! I was willing to let you slide tonight with some stuff, but keep your hand off my ass!"

Montgomery looked at her with a slight expression of shock on his face.

"What? Look, I'm not grabbing your ass. Not on purpose. Maybe you're too short or something?"

Monica, completely exasperated, gasped in shock. "What does that even mean? Look, just don't touch me anymore okay. I mean, you shouldn't be touching me or anyone else for that matter."

"Monica. I touch everybody here. It is a tight kitchen and we have to work fast. I tap people on the back so they know I am walking by."

Monica stepped away from him, her eyes burned with anger. She then pointed at the rest of the staff. "Uh, I'm pretty sure you never grabbed Javier's ass."

Chef James scoffed. "Monica. Don't flatter yourself. You're much too old for me. I like my women young. And, you're kind of a bitch. I'm just not attracted to you. With all that, why would I grab your ass?"

The rest of the kitchen staff seemed visibly uncomfortable, watching the two of them. They tried to return to their work so they could close up and go home, but they were also too distracted by what is going on between the two head chefs. Monica, raised her hands gesturing for him to stop talking.

"Look, just don't touch me. If this happens again, I am going to have to talk to Frank and Dave about this."

Montgomery snorted out a laugh. "Go ahead. Whose side do you think they are going to take? Me, the guy who bailed them out? Or you, a woman who had to take four months of maternity leave for babies she couldn't even have herself? I mean, Jesus Christ, what did you need all that time off for? You didn't give birth to them!"

Monica, knew she should walk away. She knew what she was about to do would only makes things worse, yet she could not help herself. She was angry. She was tired. She felt violated, both physically and emotionally. And finally, she has decided that she really hated this man with the stupid name and she hated his stupid face. She shoved him hard, which took him off guard as he stumbled backwards a bit. She drew her hand back and with all of her strength, she slapped him across the face.

Chef James got quiet. His cheek started turning red from the impact. He rubbed it and was clearly in pain.

"I guess Frank and Dave are going to hear about this after all." He looked around the room. "You guys are all witnesses. You saw she attacked me."

Monica, still seething with anger, stepped back. She closed her eyes to catch her breath. Chef James turned to look at her and when she opened her eyes back up, he offered her a half-smile.

"You're screwed Geller."

* * *

A/N – Yeah, I guess I cast a villain for this arc. We can all hate Chef Montgomery James and his stupid name.


	11. Autumn

**Autumn**

**October 31****st**

Halloween provided a much needed distraction for Monica from her confrontation at work the night before with Chef James. It started out like most Sunday mornings after she would work a Saturday late shift, Chandler let her sleep in. He took care not to disturb her as he woke and would get out of bed as softly as he could before he made his way into the nursery. He fed and changed the twins, getting them downstairs quickly to play for a bit before their first nap. He would also make breakfast and that morning, he made pancakes and bacon. Monica appreciated waking up to a meal already prepared for her, even though she would have made the pancakes from scratch instead of from a box, and he tends to let the bacon get just a little too crispy, burning some of it in the process.

Before she came downstairs to eat, she made the decision to wait to tell Chandler about what had happened at work last night. She wanted them to focus on today's festivities. She also was not keen on the idea that if she did say something this morning, her problems at work would then become the topic of conversation all day, with everyone offering their own opinion on what she should do. She was not ready for that. Unfortunately, she knew once he saw her that he could immediately tell something was bothering her. She was too quiet and withdrawn, especially for a day where she planned to host their friends and family. She was able to play it off as just being tired, blaming a very busy night at the restaurant and an understaffed crew.

After breakfast, instead of dwelling on the unpleasant memories from the night before, she threw herself into her hosting duties. First, she prepared some food for everyone to eat throughout the day. She had decided to make several trays of hot and cold hors d'oeuvres, some small finger sandwiches, and two types of salad. Nothing too heavy or overly complicated, she just wanted there to be enough to eat to keep everyone satiated throughout the day. She also made sure there was enough wine and beer if anyone wanted to indulge, and made some ice tea and lemonade for the kids.

She then went upstairs and pulled out the costumes she had put together for Jack and Erica. Monica had visited several Halloween stores looking for something that they could wear and didn't really fall in love with anything she saw. She either worried the outfits would be too uncomfortable for the twins to wear all day or too cliché, ending with the two of them in something that looked like every other baby's first Halloween costume. Eventually though, she had searched long enough, and was ready to give up and just dress them as two little pumpkins. Before she went back to the costume store, she took some time to walk around the mall and wandered into one of the half-dozen children's clothing stores there, as she normally would almost every time she went shopping. She couldn't help herself. She could spend hours looking at all the tiny, adorable baby outfits. Marveling at the little shoes, dresses and jackets, finding countless new items she wanted to get for the twins. It took a lot of self-control not to buy the entire store whenever she was there.

As she was looking through the sleepwear section, a silver and grey onesie with matching cap caught her eye, and her Wizard of Oz idea was born. She realized the entire family could dress up together. Monica squealed loudly and clasped her hands together so excitedly that she felt the need to apologize to anyone who was close to her. She immediately decided that Jack would be the Tin Man. She picked up the silver and grey onesie, noting that the cap was just pointy enough to help him look the part. She knew she had enough crafting ability to cut out a heart from some red fabric and sew it onto the chest. She found an orange top with a hood and some blue pants to put on Erica. She was sure she could come up with something that would look like straw sticking out to make her the perfect little Scarecrow. She walked back to the Halloween store to get Chandler a lion costume, that looked rather ridiculous with its furry mane around the head and tail sticking out from the rear, but she has made him wear worse costumes in the past. Finally, it was her turn to find a costume. She had to roll her eyes at all the styles of Dorothy outfits they had available. She thought Joey must have designed everything in the store, because it looked like a parade of slutty costumes that only he could have dreamt up. Either the skirt was too high or the top was too low cut. It was almost impossible to find something appropriate. She finally found one that she would at least be comfortable wearing in front of her parents and the neighborhood kids as they came knocking, in search of candy.

She was excited about her plan and could not wait to go home and get Chandler on board, which meant, tell him all about it after they have sex, when he was at his most agreeable. It was how she got him to finally settle on making the spare room in the apartment a guest room. After all the trouble it caused them initially, one night of passion and he no longer cared what they did to Rachel's old room, as long as they also did it in that room.

Halloween itself had gone better than she could have expected. Not everyone wore a costume like she had asked. Rachel and her mother weren't dressed up, but she assumed that would happen. They were never really into Halloween like she was. Ben was a full-fledged Harry Potter fan, and dressed up in fake glasses and a magicians robe as he ran around the house with his replica wand, casting spells on everyone. Ross and Rachel had dressed Emma as Hermione to match him, but she stripped most of the costume off almost as soon as they arrived. Ross, dressed in a doctor's lab coat with dinosaur stickers on it had to explain his costume a dozen time,

_"I'm a doctor and a paleontologist! Dr. Dinosaur! Get it?" _

No one got it.

Her father dressed as Hugh Hefner, which she scolded him for, saying it was wildly inappropriate, but her mother told her he just wanted an excuse to be able to wear his robe all day. Monica was certain her parents snuck off at some point and had sex somewhere in her house, but she immediately expunged that image from her mind by consuming a few glasses of wine. Chandler's dad came as Elvira, which, upon seeing him, elicited an immediate groan from her husband.

_"Dad, maybe you don't answer the door when we get trick-or-treaters today. I'm not interested in going to prison."_

Phoebe, dressed in black, just threw on some cat ears and Mike went all out, looking like one of the Bee Gees. He even grew his hair out a little and had a short, scruffy beard, looking as if he stepped off the cover of the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack. Chandler moped about a bit at first; clearly, feeling emasculated that his wife selected his outfit yet again. He perked up a little though, playing with the tail of his costume and making terrible puns all day.

_"Honey, I'd be lyin' if I didn't tell you how much I hated this costume." _

She had to admit, it was turning out to be a good day.

For the most part, her problems with Chef James faded to the back of her mind. There was one incident that made her snap a bit, and unfortunately, it was at Chandler. She felt guilty almost as soon as it happened. He had come up behind her and placed his hand on the small of her back, as he has done countless times since they have been together. He whispered in her ear about how hot she looked and slowly lowered his hand to the top of her buttocks and she froze. The previous night's disastrous ending came flooding back to her. The tactile memory of Montgomery violating her, touching her in the exact same way less than twenty-four hours ago, blinded her to what was happening and she slapped Chandler's hand away, yelling for him to cut it out. Everyone got quiet and she could see the confusion on his face. All she wanted to do was tell him she was sorry and explain why she reacted the way she did, but she couldn't. Not in front of everyone. No, she was going to have to let him feel confused and wounded for a little while longer, until they were alone.

That evening, when the last guest finally left, Chandler immediately stripped out of his costume and took a shower. Monica sat at the kitchen table, some dirty dishes still in the sink, sipping at a cup of coffee. She could hear tiny snores through the baby monitor, the twins exhausted after such a busy day. She stared off out the window, contemplating what her next move at work was going to be. She could hear the light footsteps of her husband as he padded his way downstairs and into the kitchen. He entered the room and placed a soft kiss on the top of her head, and then sat down across from her.

"Hey. Aren't you going to change?"

She looked at herself, seemingly unaware that she was still dressed as Dorothy. "Hmm? Oh. Yeah. Hey, I'm sorry about earlier." Chandler looked over at her with confused eyes. She could tell by his expression that he had no idea what she was talking about. "When I yelled at you."

Chandler chuckled lightly. "Oh, don't worry. To be honest, I forgot all about it."

She smiled at him and reached her hand out for him to hold. As their fingers intertwined across the table, she allowed a bashful smile to spread across her lips as her cheeks began to blush.

"So, you think I looked hot today?"

Chandler jokingly looked up as if trying to recall a distant memory. "Did I say that?" He then looked her in the eyes, and he gave her that look that he has been giving her ever since they got together. The one that makes her melt. His eyes filled with confidence and tenderness. His lips curled up in a half-smile. "Yes. You looked hot today. And yesterday. Last week. You'll probably look hot tomorrow."

Monica looked down quickly and smiled sheepishly. She then looked back up at him, her face filled with worry.

"Can you tell me everything is going to be all right?"

Chandler tilted his head. A bemused look on his face. "What do you mean? What's wrong?" He looked around the room for a few moments and noticed the dirty dishes in the sink. "Is everything okay?"

Monica squeezed his hand gently trying to return his attention to her. "I just need to hear you say it."

He hesitated for a moment, still looking around, trying to figure out what brought this on. He finally faced her, submitting to her wishes. "Sure." He took her hand in his and looked at her, making eye contact as an earnest yet affectionate expression fell across his face. He spoke softly, almost at a whisper.

"Everything is going to be all right."

Monica looked down at their hands and smiled. "Want to take this costume for a spin?" She lifted her gaze and playfully nodded her head towards the stairs, intimating that they should go up to their bedroom.

"Okay!" Chandler leapt up excitedly, grabbed her hand and pulled her up from her seat. They shared a smile as they raced upstairs, quietly giggling at their own enthusiasm.

_Tomorrow. I'll tell him tomorrow."_

**November 1****st**

"Do you want me to kick his ass?"

Chandler sat up in bed, shirtless, as Monica rummaged around for something to put on. He has his hands behind his head as he pulled the sheets up to cover himself from the waist down. Monica, grabbed his t-shirt that was hanging on the back of the chair and slid it over her naked body, the length of it almost making it look like she was wearing a dress.

"Chandler. Be serious."

"You're right. I'm not really the ass kicking type." He looked up at the ceiling contemplatively. "Do you want me to hold your things while you kick his ass? I know I can do that."

She bounced back into bed and smiled at him, tracing her finger around his chest. "Seriously? What do I do?"

"You have to call the owners and make sure they hear your side of the story. When you got this job, they asked for you personally. This guy is just a fill-in. You've been with them for two years and this is the first problem you've had. They'll make the connection."

Monica rested her head down on his chest. She listened to him breath and felt the thumping of his heart. "You're right. I just…this is my dream job. I feel like it is tainted now."

"I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but it is just a job. You're dream is to be a head chef at a great restaurant. This is not the only great restaurant in New York." He stroked her hair aside a bit with his fingers and gently rubbed her cheek with his thumb.

"I know. I know. But it can be so hard to start over. I made so much progress at Javu."

"Look, I'm not great at the advice, so I don't think I can tell you what to do that will make it all work out. But I know you're great at getting what you want. I know nothing can stand in your way when you put your mind to it. If it is really important to you to be the head chef at Javu, then you are going to have to fight for it and I know you're going to win."

She kissed his chest and sighed. "Thanks. You're not great at giving advice, but you do a pretty good pep talk."

**November 5****th**

"You had to apologize to him?"

Rachel twisted her face into one of disgust as she leaned forward on the couch. Monica and Rachel have been meeting in Central Perk once a week, usually before one of her late shifts at Javu. They would catch up about everything going on in their lives and then gossip about coworkers. It was not the same as living across the hall from each other, fully entangled in each other's life, but it was a decent substitute.

"Well, what about him?"

Monica huffed a bit as she grabbed her coffee and shook her head. "They said he would let it go if I apologized for slapping him. I think they were worried he might sue them. They even had their lawyer draw up an affidavit about the whole thing."

Rachel, clearly incensed, shook her head as if she were boiling over with rage. "Well did he have to fill out one of these after-David things for grabbing your ass?"

Monica let out a sarcastic laugh. "Affidavit. Not after-David. He has to take some five-hour harassment training course. Learn what is and is not appropriate in the workplace. Get taught how not to be an ass."

Rachel sat back and seethed. "Oooo! His face is inappropriate. Maybe we should send Joey's sisters there and see what happens when he tries to hit on one of them!"

"Rachel, I just want him gone. I don't want him dead."

Rachel pulled her hands up, gesturing her surrender. "They might not kill him. They could just send him to the hospital."

Monica laughed and shook her head. "Well, we aren't going to work together anymore. He has his days, I have mine and we alternate Saturdays now. So, with any luck, I'll never have to look at his stupid face again." Monica crossed her legs and sat back, taking her mug with her. "Now look. I just wanted to make sure you guys are coming for Thanksgiving. It'll be the first one in our new home and it would really mean a lot if I could get everyone there."

"Of course. Where else would we go?" Rachel smiled and leaned her head back. "You guys are our family."

**November 6****th**

Monica tiptoed into the nursery and peered over the side of the cribs, whispering at a barely audible level.

"Hey little bunnies. Happy six-month birthday."

She felt lucky to have the day off to spend with the twins; she was surprised Chef James kept his word and swapped shifts with her after everything that had gone down between them. She frowned at the memory and then quickly let thoughts of him fade as she looked down on her sleeping babies. She thought about how her mother told her that time flies fast when you have a baby, and that you should savor every moment before they grow up; but for Monica, these six months have felt like a lifetime. Almost as if she could not remember who she was before she was their mother. She has enjoyed every moment despite the late nights and the extra mess. This has been what she has wanted her entire adult life. Her breath shortened as she felt her husband's arms wrap around her waist from behind, taking her out of her reverie.

"Morning. You aren't thinking about waking them up now, are you?"

"No. I just wanted to see them first thing in the morning. Can you believe it has been six months? It's been so wonderful, hasn't it?"

"Wonderful. And gross."

Monica slapped his arm gently as she placed her hands over his and leaned her head back into his shoulder. "It hasn't been that bad."

"Are you kidding me. Do you remember the fact that the little nub left over from the umbilical cord just rots off them? Do you know how disturbing that is? Why doesn't anyone tell you that in Lamaze?"

Monica smiled as she allowed an amused "tsk" to escape her lips. "Chandler. You are the last person who can complain about things that are gross. We share a bathroom. Unfortunately."

Chandler shook his head as they disentangled and the two of them slowly crept back out of the room. Once they reached the end of the hallway, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into him. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned in to give her a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"So, I'm guessing we have a full schedule today?"

Monica smiled and nodded slowly. "I thought we could all go for a walk this morning after they eat breakfast. Take some pictures at the park. Maybe stop for some coffee and pastries at the bakery in town while we feed them a late morning bottle? My mom and dad are stopping by around two. Your dad should already be here by then, and I'm still waiting to hear from your mom."

"Good luck with that." Chandler raised his eyebrows sarcastically.

"She might come. She keeps telling me she wants to see the babies again soon." Monica slid her hands from his shoulders down to his chest and started lightly pulling on the fabric of his pajama top.

Chandler shook his head as a skeptical look fell across his face. "She's had plenty of opportunities. Look, Mon. I don't really care either way, I just don't want her to forget about Jack or Erica. Or miss out on them entirely. They should know who their grandmother is."

"She won't. They will. Those two little bunnies in there are too amazing for something like that to happen. They're already showing little personalities. Erica is so fussy and Jack is so laid back."

"Yeah. I wonder where they got that from."

Monica shook her head and gave Chandler another playful jab. "Let's go grab some breakfast before they wake up."

Chandler followed her downstairs. "You know, this is going to be the first time my dad and your parents are together here without the rest of the gang. That sounds like it'll be fun. Your dad will do some of his magic, maybe he will make a pencil disappear. Then my dad will put on a dress and make his penis disappear. Just a fun, wholesome celebration for the entire family."

Monica hid her amused smile and darted downstairs, shaking her head.

**November 12****th**

"Hello? Monica?"

Monica could barely hear the voice on the other line, but she was fairly certain that it was Chandler's mom.

"Nora? Is that you? Chandler isn't home today."

"Oh, that's okay. I don't have a lot of time. I'm in India."

Monica shook her head in surprise. "India. Oh. That's nice I guess?"

"I just wanted to tell you I will be in New York for Thanksgiving and I want to know if the invitation to come over is still open."

Monica stammered a bit as a look of amused shock appeared on her face. "Really? I mean, of course. You're always welcome."

"Great. I have to go. There's a boy here to take me on a ride on an elephant. And, I am pretty sure will take me for a totally different kind of ride later since he is also hung like an elephant. Give my love to everyone dear."

The phone went silent and Monica hung up as she shook her head in disbelief.

**November 19****th**

Monica stared off, not really paying attention to the conversations happening around her. Her mind was on the twins and she wondered if it was too early to call her mother and father to find out how things were going. She only left them a little over an hour ago, but it seemed as if it has been much longer than that. She felt a hand on her knee and looked up as Chandler leaned into her and softly spoke in her ear.

"You're already thinking about calling them, aren't you?"

Monica shrunk down a bit in her seat with a guilty smile on her face. "Yeah. It's just, well, you won't be home for a few hours and I have to work tonight. This is the first time that one of us is not home with them."

Chandler continued to rub her leg gently. "They've raised kids before, you know."

Monica shook her head and pulled away from her husband as she sat forward to grab her coffee. The two of them positioned closely on the orange couch. Phoebe was sitting next to Monica, but did not seem to be paying attention to their conversation. Mike and Ross were seated off to the side at the high-top table, both looked to be doing their best to avoid talking to each other. Monica leaned into him and spoke softly.

"They never had to take care of two babies at the same time."

Chandler lifted his leg up and crossed it over the other; he pulled the paper he had on his lap up and started looking through. "You and Ross were pretty good at acting like infants when you were teenagers, so I am sure they will be fine."

The joke earned him a confused, yet insulted glare from Ross. Monica pursed her lips and screwed up her face, expressing great offense to his joke as well, but then she sighed and shook her head, resigning herself to let his comment go without a retort.

Mike cleared his throat. "So, Monica. Phoebe and I will probably be late for Thanksgiving. We're going to watch the parade from my parent's apartment and stay with them for a little while."

Monica nodded. "That's fine Mike."

Mike shifted a little nervously in his chair and looked over at Phoebe who gave him a reassuring nod. "You know Monica. I still have a lot of contacts and if you want, I could ask around about this guy at your job and see if there's been any formal complaints against him. Odds are this isn't his first-time sexually…" Mike stopped for a moment and looked over at Chandler. He winced at his choice of words and started to speak again. "I mean, he might have a history of harassing people at work. Maybe if we find something it will push the owners to take a harder stance with him."

Chandler looked back-and-forth uncomfortably between Monica and Mike. Monica noticed and decided to bail him out of having to endure an uncomfortable conversation.

"Uh, sweetie. Would you mind going to get me a refill on my coffee?"

Chandler nodded and stood up quickly, taking her mug with him.

Ross looked up at Chandler. "I'll go with you."

Chandler leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to the side of Monica's forehead. He folded up his paper and placed it on the table in front of him before walking away. Once he and Ross reached the counter, Ross turned to look over his shoulder to see if anyone could overhear what he was going to say.

"So, Chandler. You have to tell Monica to quit. She can't keep working there."

Chandler paused as a puzzled look furrowed his brow. "Ross, you want me to tell my wife, your sister, what to do? Is this your first time seeing us as a couple? Have you met Monica? Since when has she ever done what someone told her to do?"

"You have to. I can't let my sister work with that man anymore." Ross's face twisted as if he tasted something rancid as he spits words out of his mouth. "He's just lucky I haven't found my way down there because I would have to…" He held his hands up flat and steady as he mimicked a karate chop.

Chandler looked down and smiled as he shook his head. "You can't let her? Ross. Monica is stronger than the both of us combined. She knows what she is doing and if working at Javu is important to her than I support whatever decision she makes."

"Yeah, but…"

"Ross. I can't be the reason she quits a job she loves. She'll resent me for it. I mean, don't you trust her?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Okay. Then that should be good enough. She'll do the right thing."

**November 21****st**

Monica strolled around the kitchen with a pad in hand. She tugged on her lower lip with a pen.

"Chandler. I'm almost done putting together my list for Thanksgiving. Now what do you want? Mac and cheese or a chicken or soup?"

Chandler walked into the kitchen. He pushed his glasses up and sounded nervous as he started to speak. "Uh, you know what. I'll just eat what everyone else is having."

Monica turned to face him with a look of shock on her face as she dropped the pen on the floor. "What?"

Chandler bent down to pick it up for her. "Yeah. I guess, maybe it's time to let that stuff go, right?" He handed her the pen and stood back up.

Monica stepped back a bit. "Chandler, if this is about all the food I have to make, doing one more thing it isn't going to be any trouble…."

Chandler let out a loud chuckle and put his hands in his pockets. "I know. I know. I've been thinking about it all month, and really, all my best memories happened on Thanksgiving. Or at least, I have more good memories than bad one now."

Monica glided over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist as she kissed him on the chin. "Really?"

"Sure. Think about all of the Thanksgivings we have had over the last couple of years. We found out Erica picked us on Thanksgiving. The first time I knew that I was in love with you; Thanksgiving. When we told your mom and dad about us, the first time I met you, the first time I saw you and added you to my personal collection of smoking hot chicks to think about when I had my private alone time. All of it happened on Thanksgiving. I just think I can finally let all that stuff with my mom and dad go. They can't ruin Thanksgiving anymore when I have this family of my own here to create so many more wonderful memories with. Besides, I don't want Jack and Erica growing up with the weird dad who hates Thanksgiving."

Monica raised herself up on her toes and kissed him. They both of grinned against each other's lips.

"That's so great. Really." Monica's smile faded as a look of apprehension fell over her face. "So, maybe this isn't a good time to tell you, since I wanted it to be a surprise, but your mom is coming for Thanksgiving."

Chandler pulled back and released Monica from his embrace. A look of shock washed over his face. "What?"

Monica nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, we've talked a couple of times on the phone this month and she's coming."

Chandler rubbed his chin slowly. "So, both my parents will be here, in this house, at the same time, on Thanksgiving. Next week. The Bings are coming for dinner."

Monica, still wondering if telling him was the right thing to do, simply offered him a quiet and uneasy. "Uh huh."

"Maybe you should get one box of mac and cheese, you know. In case of an emergency."


	12. Thanksgiving 2004

**Thanksgiving 2004**

Chandler sat down on the edge of the couch and leaned forward while holding a somber gaze. He made sure to take a moment and look directly into each pair of eyes from his two person audience that were fixated back onto him. It had already reached the late morning and he was consumed by this overwhelming and fruitless trepidation about what this day was going to be like. He has been dreading its arrival ever since Monica told him that his mother was planning on coming for dinner. The same dinner that his father was also attending. Both of his parents appearing at the first Thanksgiving dinner in his new home. It was hard to believe this was happening. Chandler had spent most of his adult life making sure the three of them never spent another Thanksgiving together, and yet, as the clock inched its way closer to noon, he knew it was inevitable. Today was destined to go down in Bing family infamy.

Nora and Charles Bing, together again for Thanksgiving. It has been over twenty-five years since the last time the three of them had celebrated this holiday together. The holiday Chandler had found that he was growing to love again, despite himself. The one he had slowly let creep its way back into his life, thanks to the last ten years celebrating it with his wife and his friends. This rebooted holiday was now under threat of invasion from the two people who had sucked the joy out of it so many years ago.

He would be bouncing off the walls right now if he had not already started to quietly freak out ever since last week when he first heard about his mother's intended visit. He was actually quite surprised that it had not turned into a vintage Chandler Bing freak out, yet it was still noticeable enough to make Monica nervous. As today started to become a reality, and even though he told her he was ready to eat actual traditional Thanksgiving food for the first time in decades, she made sure to set up some back-up, break-glass-in-case of emergency dishes. Macaroni and cheese, tomato soup and even some frozen pizzas were on hand in case he reverted back into the man he was a decade ago, barely able to stand in the same room as a turkey and stuffing.

Chandler perched forward on the couch and leaned his elbows on his knees. He took a deep breath as he prepared himself to address the other two people in the room. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before he spoke. He wanted to make sure his words were carefully chosen. He needed to express his concerns about the upcoming holiday celebration succinctly. He knew that whatever he said, it had to be precise and above reproach. He looked down and inhaled deeply one more time before lifting his eyes back up to face his audience of two.

"Look. I know this is awkward, and I know that hearing something like this from me is the last thing you expected. We all know that I am not the one who gives the serious speeches and sets the tone or makes the rules. Believe me; no one is more surprised than I am that we are sitting here right now having this conversation. I know that spending Thanksgiving face-to-face isn't something you're probably ready for, but this is a big day for all of us; the first Thanksgiving in the new house. I really need the two of you to behave in a civilized manner. No snide comments, no passive-aggressive remarks, no taking shots at each other about the past. We just want to be able to have everyone here for a lovely meal without any problems. Also, if you two could not compete for attention from everyone that would be great. Nothing would embarrass me more than if I found you both vying for the favor of the same person at the same time tonight; trying to outdo each other and making everyone else at dinner uncomfortable in the process. So, what do you say? Do we have a deal?"

Jack and Erica looked up at him from their two Bumbo chairs; drool slick on their chins as they reached out and stretched their tiny fingers towards their father.

"Mmmfff. Gaaaa. Oooo. Fffffbbbtt!"

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"

"Gah! Bah!"

"I'm going to need that in writing."

"Chandler!"

Chandler turned his head over his shoulder and found Monica standing in the entranceway of the living room. Her arms were folded and she wore a uniquely unamused expression that could only belong to her and that was usually reserved for him when he made a joke at the most inopportune of times.

She let out a huff and shook her head. "We have maybe an hour until my parents get here and we still need to set the table. What are you doing hiding out in here?"

"I'm avoiding reality. There's no chance my mother or father called to say they couldn't make it, is there?"

Monica exhaled out a chuckle. "No." She smiled as she playfully shook her head. "Come here." She sat down on the arm of the couch next to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to rest on her chest. "Sweetie, you shouldn't stress out about this. Your father has been coming around a lot lately and that's been going great. Don't you think it is time for you and your mom to finally reconnect too?"

"It isn't reconnecting with me that I'm worried about. You saw them at the wedding. They can't last more than fifteen seconds without going at each other's throats. Instead of 'please pass the mashed potatoes' it'll be 'please don't tell the story about how you both slept with the same personal trainer'. Or worse, she'll bring some new boy toy, who will probably be shirtless by the way, and my Dad will change into a black strapless dress to try and seduce him."

Monica couldn't help her self and let loose with a loud laugh at his consternations. "I'm sure everything will be fine." She turned her attention towards Jack and Erica and smiled at them as she spoke in a sing-song voice. "Grandma and Grampa Bing will be too busy fawning over the two of you to get into any trouble. Won't they?"

Chandler allowed a skeptical look to fall over his face as he jabbed his chin in the direction of the twins. "You two better be extra cute today."

Monica rolled her eyes and lifted herself up off the arm of the couch. She held tight to Chandler's hand and pulled him up. "Okay. Let's go set that table. These two should be all right for a minute. We can watch them from the dining room."

Chandler took a step to follow her, but then abruptly stopped in his tracks and held them up from leaving the living room.

"You're actually going to let me help you this year?"

Monica paused for a moment and looked down. "No. I just need you to hold the box that has everything in it while I set the table. I'd let you help, but I'm afraid you could mess it up."

Chandler nodded and gestured for her to keep walking out of the room. "There it is."

* * *

Chandler closed the door to the twins' bedroom after successfully getting them down for an early nap. He and Monica had agreed that trying to get them to sleep a little before everyone showed up would probably decrease the chances of having to deal with two cranky babies all day. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he jerked his head towards the front door as he heard the doorbell ring. He furrowed his brow at the prospect of someone already showing up, since they were not expecting anyone for at least one more hour. Chandler knew that normally, when someone came this early to dinner at his house, it could only mean one thing; which Monica confirmed as she called to him from the kitchen.

"Sweetie. Can you get that? It's probably my parents."

Chandler smirked and softly mumbled to himself as he approached the front door. "Let the games begin."

He pulled the door open, expecting the familiar barrage of criticisms and candor from Jack and Judy Geller as they barged into the house, but instead, he was greeted by a tight and enthusiastic bear hug that practically lifted him off the ground.

"Hey buddy!"

"Joey?" Chandler tried to catch his breath as he smiled widely. His face beamed; genuinely surprised and ecstatic at Joey's arrival. He gave his old roommate a hearty slap on the back. "Oh my God! What? Why? How?"

The two men separated and Joey offered up a prideful smile as he picked up his duffel bag from the front stoop and stepped inside the house. "I have some time off between gigs and decided to come back to New York for the holidays. This way I could see you guys today and spend Christmas with my family. I didn't say anything 'cause I wanted to surprise you guys!"

"Oh man. Monica is going to be so happy you're here. And so angry that you didn't let her know so she could prepare twice as much food."

"Don't worry pal. I got that covered." Joey dropped his bag in front of Chandler and unzipped it. He pulled it open and displayed several tightly wrapped foot-long hero sandwiches inside. Chandler laughed as he and Joey shared another hug.

Chandler closed the front door and led Joey through the house towards the kitchen. "Come on. Monica is this way. I can't wait for her to see you're here."

The two men bounded down the hallway. Chandler pulled Joey back just as he was about to enter the kitchen, and kept him out of sight.

"Mon! Guess who's here!"

Monica blew a strand of hair from her face as she was washing some dishes in the sink. She looked up at Chandler and turned off the water. She spun around to face him as she wiped her hands dry on an apron that was tied around her waist. "Who?"

Chandler pushed Joey past the entrance and into the kitchen so he was now in full view. Monica's mouth opened wide in shock, but her face was soon overcome with a giddy smile as she clapped her hands together excitedly. "Oh my god!" She rushed over and wrapped her arms around Joey, giving him a tight hug. "What are you doing here?" She then pulled back and slapped him on the shoulder. "Why didn't you call to tell us you were going to be here? I only made a twenty-two-pound turkey for today! I am not properly prepared to feed a Tribbiani!"

* * *

"So, I filmed four episodes of this show where I play this guy who makes fake IDs and gives information about bad guys to the main character, who is this ex-CIA agent or something. I won't know if I get any more appearances until next summer, so my agent found me another job that I start shooting in January."

Chandler brought over two cups of coffee and placed one in front of Joey as he pulled out a chair and sat down next to him. "That sounds great Joe."

Joey took the mug in his hand and nodded enthusiastically. "That's not even the best part. This new show is on The Food Network. I get to travel all around California, visiting small, out of the way restaurants and food trucks and I eat there."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Apparently, the producer for the show saw me and my agent having lunch. I couldn't decide what to order. They had this really great breakfast platter with scrambled eggs and bacon and pancakes. Oh man. It is so good. But they also have this burger. It has three kinds of cheese on it. So, I ordered both. I guess they heard me describing all the food and thought I'd be perfect for the show!"

"You ate both?"

"Oh yeah. You know, I'm finding that people in L.A. are really surprised at how much I can eat."

Monica turned from the kitchen counter, she smirked and nodded at Chandler who stifled his own instinct to laugh. "Joe, that sounds great. Wow. I can't believe it is all finally happening for you."

"I know! It's only six episodes right now, but if they like it, it could get picked up for a whole season! There's only one problem."

Chandler chuckled to himself. "Let me guess, you stain too many shirts from wardrobe with marinara sauce?"

Joey looked at both Monica and Chandler with a sheepish grin on his face. "Well, yeah, that; plus, I met this girl while I was working on the show. She's incredible. She's an assistant director and we really hit it off."

Monica pursed her lips and shrugged her shoulders. "That doesn't sound like a problem."

"Well, she's the producer's daughter."

Chandler sat back in his chair. "That could be a problem."

Monica rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Oh come on Joey!"

Chandler chuckled as he shook his head. "Joe. When will you learn; never screw where you eat!"

"I know! I know! And he is so overprotective. The last actor he hired who fooled around with his daughter got run out of town! He never worked in L.A. again!"

Monica walked over and put her hand on Joey's shoulder. "Joe. You know what you have to do. You can't see this girl if it means you could get blacklisted from Hollywood."

"I know. But Mon, you should see her. She's so smart, and nice and she's even went to school here in New York, so it's like I get to talk to someone from home. I mean, look guys, if this was just sex, I could stop at any time."

Monica and Chandler eyed him suspiciously.

Joey looked up at them, nodded and shrugged his shoulders. "Okay. Maybe I couldn't stop if it was just the sex. But I swear. I really like this girl. I haven't felt like this about a girl since Rachel."

Both Monica and Chandler winced a bit at that confession.

"Sorry. I keep forgetting how that will never not be weird for you guys."

Monica smiled and rubbed Joey's shoulder reassuringly. "I'm sorry Joe. It sounds really complicated. What are you going to do?"

"Well, I thought that was where you guys could come in."

Chandler and Monica turned to each other and shared a puzzled look. Chandler nodded at her.

"I'll ask. How exactly do we come in?"

"Well. You guys did that whole secret relationship thing when you first got together. You guys snuck around behind everyone's back and took your time to make sure what you had was serious enough before everyone found out. Plus you were having sex all the time. So, I thought, maybe you could give me some pointers on how to do that. Then, me and her can figure out if this is the real thing and when her dad finds out, we won't just be doing it, we'll be a couple. You know, like you guys."

Monica allowed a sweet smile to spread across her lips as Chandler looked off to the side. He ran his fingers along his chin.

"Oddly enough. That kind of makes sense."

"So, will you guys help me?"

Monica walked over and sat on Chandler's lap. "Sure, Joey but, you have to realize. It might not work."

"Come on Mon. I'm an actor. This is what I do. I research a role and then I get the part."

Monica screwed up her face. "Joey, when have you ever done that?"

"Well, it's what other actors do."

* * *

Charles Bing arrived at Monica and Chandler's house resplendent in a pair of light tan chino pants, a pink, oversized bloused shirt, pink socks and a comfortable, sparkling clean pair of white sneakers. He had his hair styled back, giving it a slick look that blended the sheen of the gel with the streaks of silver in his hair. He was jovial and gregarious, speaking with a confidence of a man who felt at home in his son's house.

He had made himself comfortable in the den with Chandler and Joey, marveling at Joey's stories of L.A., Hollywood, sex and food. Chandler and Joey were both sipping at some beer while Charles had a glass of port wine. Monica walked in with a tray of cheese, olives and sliced meats, placing it down on the coffee table in front of them.

"Honey, I'm starting to get worried. My parents are never this late. I think we should try them on their cell."

"Okay. Look, I'll go upstairs and check on the twins and then I'll try them when I come back down. I'm sure they are fine." Chandler got up from the couch and looked back at Joey and his father. "You two will be okay for a few minutes, right?"

Charles smiled and pat Joey on the knee. "Of course, we will." He then turned to face Joey. "So, Joseph, how are you doing?"

A slightly nervous smile spread across Joey's lips. Chandler looked back and sighed as he slumped his shoulders. "Dad. Don't pick on Joey."

Charles laughed and pat Joey on the back. "Joseph, are you still straight?"

Joey nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Ever do drag? You have the hips for it. I think you'd look wonderful in a nice wrap dress."

Joey looked down at himself and started to inspect his waist. He nodded as a flattered expression washed over his face. "Well, I am known to be kind of a chameleon."

The two of them are startled out of their conversation when they hear the front door swing open wildly. Suddenly, Jack Geller barreled through the doorway with Judy Geller close behind him. Judy's hair was disheveled with strands sticking out, her make-up looked smudged and her collar was standing up on one side. Jack's shirt was untucked in the front and a few of his buttons were undone.

"Hello, anyone home?"

Upon hearing her father's voice, Monica sped out of the kitchen to greet them. "There you two are. We were starting to get worried."

Jack smiled and planted a quick kiss on Monica's cheek. "Sorry sweetheart. We, uh," he glanced over at Judy and then back to Monica. "We got held up in traffic."

Monica paused as she looked her parents up and down, measuring their appearance. "Why are you guys such a mess?"

Judy looked around the house and smiled. "Monica dear, everything looks absolutely wonderful. And is that the turkey I smell? Positively mouthwatering."

Jack laughed and leaned in to his wife. "Judy. That's the second time you said that today."

Judy slapped Jack on the arm. "Jack! Shhh!" She then focused her attention on her daughter. "Monica, we're just going to freshen up in the bathroom. It was a long, hard ride." Monica held a puzzled look on her face as she shook her head. She grabs her parent's coats and took them into the den to hang up in the closet. Jack and Judy made their way down the hall to the back of the house.

Joey looked up at Monica and smiled. "Hey, your parents are here! Looks like everything is okay."

"Yeah, but I'm a little worried about them. They were late, they look like a mess, my mom complimented me. I wonder if they're getting old."

Joey nodded for a moment and looked up into the corner of the room, a ponderous expression on his face. "Or they might have just had sex."

"What?"

"Messy, late, in a good mood. Those are clear signs that they had sex."

Charles nodded and allowed a salacious smile to form on his lips. "Ooo, how delicious." Monica shot the two of them a steely glare, which caused Charles to stammer. "Uh, I was talking about this cheese, obviously."

Monica folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at her father-in-law. "Obviously."

Charles snatched up a piece of cheese and shoved it in his mouth. "Mmm. Delicious."

Monica stared at him with a skeptical look on her face. "I thought you were lactose intolerant."

"Mmph. Not right now. Right now I am getting in trouble with Monica intolerant."

* * *

Chandler hustled down the stairs as Monica walked by on her way to the kitchen. He glanced at his father and Joey in the den and thought about joining them, but decided to instead follow his wife into the other room.

"The two little dictators are still out."

"Well, it'll be a pretty busy day for them, might as well let them sleep. Plus, my parents are probably doing it in our guest bathroom right now."

Chandler shuddered and then mimed shooting himself in the head. "What can I do for you? Anything I can help with?"

"No, we still have another hour for the turkey and then I'll heat everything else up. You can help me set up all the food later."

Chandler nodded and turned his head as he heard the doorbell ring. Joey jumped up to answer and both he and Monica winced as a cacophony of excited squeals and shouts came from the front of the house as Ross, Rachel and Joey celebrated their mini-reunion by the front door. Ross quickly excused himself and walked Emma into the kitchen to greet Monica and Chandler. Monica smiled widely, filled with excitement at seeing her niece and scurried over to embrace her. Before she could reach her, Ross puts up a finger and signaled for Monica to stand back. He knelt down next to his daughter and gently placed one hand on her back. He then pointed to his sister.

"Hey Emma, do you know who this is?"

Emma looked back and forth between the two Geller siblings with a mix of apprehension and shyness on her face. She lifted her hands and tried to cover her face.

"Come on shy girl. You can do it. Just like we practiced."

Emma looked back up and started to speak, so quietly that it was almost imperceptible.

"Aunt Mon'ca."

Monica clasped her hands together, raised them to her mouth and smiled. Her eyes began to shine as tears started to form around the edges.

Ross signaled again for Monica to wait as he tried to encourage his daughter. "You know you can do better than that. Let's try again. Who is that?"

Emma, now a little more confident puffed her chest out. "Aunt Montica"

Monica, unable to contain herself anymore, hurried down to the floor and squeezed Emma into a tight hug. "That's right! I'm Aunt Monica!"

Ross got up and looked over at Chandler. "She can do it better. She was saying 'Monica' during the car ride over here."

Monica gave Emma a kiss on her forehead. "Oh, this was perfect. I can be Aunt Montica for this little cutie anytime!"

Chandler nodded as a grin of anticipation started to spread on his lips. "Wow, that's great! So, uh, Emma, do you know who I am?"

Emma turned and looked at Chandler. She shook her head and buried it in Monica's neck as she hugged her tightly.

Chandler looked at Ross. "I guess she's still shy. Maybe she will say my name later."

Ross offered up a sheepish grin. "Well, she can't say your name yet."

Chandler rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and huffed.

Ross pursed his lips and adopted a slightly indignant tone at Chandler's reaction. "Uncle Chandler is hard for kids to say! Why couldn't you have a normal name like Mike or Phil?"

Emma turned from Monica and looked at Chandler one more time. She pointed at him and smiled. "Funk. Funkle. Funkie."

Monica smiled and covered her mouth again, almost melting at the adorable sounds that were coming from Emma. "That's right! Uncle!"

Emma smiled, spurred on by Monica's praise, pointed at Chandler again. "Funk. Funk. Funk."

Chandler threw his hands down exasperatedly. "Funk?"

Monica shot him a stern look. "Be nice Funk. She's trying."

Ross patted him on the back. "I guess maybe you should play some of that _you_ music, white boy."

Chandler shook his head, "I was better off watching my dad try to flirt with Joey." He shuddered as he walked out of the kitchen and made his way back to the den.

Ross placed his coat on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. "Mon, can you watch Emma for a second? I'm just going to go to the bathroom quick."

Monica, her attention still focused on her niece; she was smiling at her while they brought their faces close and rubbed their noses together. "Sure."

Ross walked away and Monica's face suddenly went pale. She shot straight up. "Wait! Ross! Mom and dad…"

Before she could finish her warning, she was cut off by her brother's shrieks of horror.

"No! No! No! Mom! Dad! What is wrong with the two of you! There are children here!"

* * *

Monica entered the dining room and looked over the group of faces that were eagerly waiting for dinner to be served. She flashed a half-smile, but could not hide the dejected expression on her face as she slumped her shoulders and sat down next to Chandler. She glanced at the three empty table settings.

"Well, that was Phoebe. They're not going to make it. She is really tired and cramping today and they don't think she can make the drive." She looked over at Chandler and leaned into him, resting her head on his chest. "This is going to be our first Thanksgiving without her in such a long time."

Chandler put his arms around her and kissed her gently on the side of her head.

Joey groaned at the prospect of not being able to see his friends, but then perked up. "Ooo! I call their turkey!"

Rachel offered him a bemused look. "Joey, Phoebe doesn't eat turkey."

"Great. So not only does she not come out to see me when I'm back in New York, but she also doesn't leave me any turkey to eat?"

Monica sighed and exhaled out slowly. "Joey, I made plenty of food. I'm sure you'll get to eat extra turkey."

Joey smiled triumphantly at the thought of receiving extra food. "So, Pheebs is really pregnant, huh?"

Chandler slowly turned to face him. "Yeah Joe. We weren't sure when she told us, or when her stomach started to get really big, but now that she can't make it to dinner. I think something might be up."

Monica shook her head and glanced at her husband with admonishment in her eyes. "She'll be eight months tomorrow."

"Oh wow. I'm not going back to L.A. until after New Year's. Maybe I'll be here for the baby!"

Ross presented a plate of food to Emma. She turned it a few times as she inspected it suspiciously. "That would be great Joe. I know Phoebe would really love it if you were here when the baby was born."

Monica nodded but then looked back at the three empty seats and frowned a bit. "Okay, well, I wanted to wait until everyone was here, but now they aren't coming and we haven't heard from Nora yet, so, I guess we might as well start eating."

Charles shivered and then smiled. "Well, my ex-wife does love to make a grand entrance. I'm sure she will show up at the worst possible moment, ensuring that all eyes will be on her."

Chandler looked over at his father. "What about you? When I was twelve you celebrated Carnival by wearing a head dress that took three people to put on your head and a gown that had a six-foot train on the end of it. I had to walk around behind you and hold it up whenever we went somewhere."

"Well, son. That was Carnival! A celebration and special occasion."

"How special could it have been? We ate dinner at a pizza hut!"

Everyone at the table chuckled nervously as Charles shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I looked good."

Monica stood up. "Chandler, want to help me get the food in here so we can start eating?"

Joey jumped up out of his chair. "Yeah Chandler. Let's get the food so people can start eating!"

Chandler gestured for Joey to sit back down. "We got it Joe. Okay everyone. Dinner in five."

Suddenly Emma started to giggle and pointed at Chandler. "Funk! Funkie funk!"

Rachel smiled and nods as she kissed her daughter on the top of her head. "That's right Emma. That's funkie." She then looked at Chandler with a devilish grin. "That is never going to get old."

Chandler shook his head and mumbled in a mocking tone back at Rachel. He then turned and walked out of the dining room.

Once they both reached the kitchen, they began setting up some serving dishes. Chandler placed several of them on a large tray so he could carry them into the dining room. Monica made sure to inspect his work before she turned her attention to the kitchen counter so she could begin to carve the turkey. The doorbell rang, and both of them froze and looked at each other nervously.

"I'll get it."

Ross jumped up from his seat to answer the door.

Chandler craned his neck a bit, leaning his head in the direction of the front door and shuddered when he heard a familiar voice.

"Well, hello Ross. Don't you look handsome."

Ross could only offer back a shy smirk as he looked down. "Hi Mrs. Bing."

"Please. Call me Nora."

Charles swung his legs around in his seat so he could pivot and see his ex-wife as she walked in the front door. "I'm surprised she didn't say 'call me anytime'."

"Oh, is that who I think it is?"

Nora took off her coat and handed it to Ross, revealing a low-cut dress exposing an ample amount of her cleavage and a slit that went up her right leg, almost reaching the top of her thigh. Jack's eyes bulged a bit as he tries to keep from staring and Judy cuffed him in his ribs. Nora looked as if she is derived nourishment from the attention everyone was lavishing her with. She beamed as she entered the dining room. As she sat down, she glanced at Charles and scoffed.

"Charles dear? You look almost normal. I'm surprised. Where is your dress?"

Charles smirked as he looked her over. His eyes traveled up and down the length of her body as he studied her clothes. "That's funny. I was going to ask you the same thing. You know this is a family holiday, right? No some European sex club."

Chandler, hearing every word as he stood in the kitchen, closed his eyes tightly and let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh great. Mom is here. Now the fun can really start."

Monica put a reassuring hand on his arm and drew his attention to her. She looked him in the eye and smiled sweetly at him. She lifted herself up on her toes to gently kiss him on the cheek.

"Chandler, sweetie, calm down. It'll be okay. Even if it isn't okay, it'll be okay. This is what Thanksgiving is all about."

Chandler tilted his head sarcastically. "What? Dysfunction?"

Monica exhaled with a laugh. "Actually, yes. Look at what has already happened today. Joey is sleeping with his boss's daughter. Your dad hit on Joey. My parents were supposed to bring three pies and instead they brought two and an empty tray with some crust in it, which can only mean they used one of the pies while they were having sex on the side of the road somewhere. Ross walked in on my parents having sex in our bathroom, and your niece thinks your name is funk. This is what Thanksgiving is all about. Family. And family can be pretty messy, but this is our family and it is the only one we get. Now straighten up, put on your best face, and be prepared to throw one of our adorable babies at your parents if it gets really bad."

Chandler leaned over and kissed his wife on her forehead.

"Okay."

"Okay."

He pulled her in for one last hug. "I love you."

"I know."

They kissed again and for a moment, lost themselves in each other. The world around them became blurry as they fused together. IN this moment, it was only the two of them. No parents, no friends, no cranky babies or finicky children, just them. They lingered there for a bit and let their lips graze each other once more, it seemed nothing could break them out of this spell.

"Come on already! We're starving in here!"

Monica pulled back and giggled as she shook her head.

"Coming Joe."

Chandler shook his head and watched as his wife disentangled herself from him, grab a tray of food, and slowly walk out of the kitchen.

"Okay."

He followed suit, grabbing a tray, and followed her into the dining room, ready to celebrate Thanksgiving with his family and friends.


	13. Tis The Season

**Tis The Season**

Thanks to the holiday season, Monica felt like she was fighting a chef's cold war with one hand tied behind her back. These last few weeks, Chef James, who has no immediate family, has been working around the clock. Perfecting his craft, introducing new dishes, and solidifying his standing in the restaurant with the owner. He owes most of his recent success to a very favorable review Javu received on one the nights when he was running the kitchen. A review that raved about three of his special menu items in particular.

Monica, on the other hand, has been concentrating on her family. She hosted her first Thanksgiving in the new home, and was now planning their first Christmas with Jack and Erica. As a result, she has not been able to spend as much time in the city before a shift to work on new recipes, and she has fallen back on some of her more familiar dishes to get by. Seeing how well he has been doing in her absence, Monica fears that Chef James may be gaining an advantage on her. She hated to admit it, even if only to herself, but he may be winning.

The owners of Javu have repeatedly told Monica there was no competition, there was no "winning" or "losing" between the two of them and that they were happy with the work both of them had been doing. Despite these reassurances, Monica was certain that at some point, they would not be able to justify having two head chefs on the payroll, especially with January fast approaching, and the eventual downturn in business that would come with the new year. She was certain that this meant whichever one of them was having the most profitable nights, was probably going to be the one to stick around. She knew that this holiday season was her last chance at a final push to make a great impression, and she needed to focus on her job, but she also did not want to miss celebrating with her family. She had dreamt of sharing all the things that she loves about this time of year with her babies ever since they got that phone call from the adoption agency over a year ago.

Chef James on the other hand, has been ruthless. If she didn't hate him so much already, she might actually respect his tenacity as a competitor. Not only were his dishes well received but, there were rumors he knew when the food critic who reviewed the restaurant was coming in. Geoffrey had told her how he was not only in earlier than usual that day, but he also introduced some new specials and did most of the cooking himself. Putting the finishing touches on almost every dish that went out into the dining room.

There have also been some incidents which have Monica convinced that he is trying to sabotage her, deliberately subverting her own ability to thrive. Last month she came to work to find several items in the walk-in refrigerator past their expiration date. That has never happened before he showed up. And it has never happened to Monica in any restaurant she worked in. Her inventory system is meticulous and has never failed her. She was certain that it could only happen if Chef James was intentionally using food out of order. This caused her to make several last-minute arrangements most nights. Calling vendors for deliveries and sending staff out to buy replacement items took precious time away from getting the restaurant prepared for that night's shift.

Two weeks ago, all the hanger steaks were left out on the prep station, not only causing them to turn, but also creating a horrible stench in the entire kitchen that was impossible to remove. The scent of spoiled meat wafting into the dining room causing a few very vocal customer complaints. One week ago, the knobs for the flat top grills were removed. All that was left were the unattached wires hanging from the open front panel of the ovens. The idea that they almost had to face a lunch rush without a grill sent a wave of panic throughout the entire staff. It took her and the staff hours to finally find them in a box in the basement. Thankfully one of the line cooks had been a maintenance man in a large chain restaurant and knew how to get them back on.

Yesterday though, was the worst. She came in and the door handles to the walk-ins were broken. No one could get them to open, they weren't locked, but the handles were somehow not attached to the latches. It took them three hours to get a commercial kitchen technician in who could remove the old handles and install new ones. This not only caused the restaurant to open late, but she didn't have enough time to teach everyone the new special menu items she had planned for the evening. If she hadn't thought quickly, and found a use for all the monk fish she had arranged to be delivered that day, it could have been a devastating inventory loss.

Monica was distraught but she was still determined to put an end to this on her terms. She talked to the staff, at first desperate to find out why they would let him do this at the end of the night. Wondering if she was going to have to re-live the experience she had during her first few months at Alessandro's all over again. Constantly at odds with the entire crew. Yet, they were all just as angry as she was, and sincere when they assured her that when they left at closing, everything was in order. It seemed while Chef James may have been gaining favor with the owners, the rest of the staff hated him almost as much as Monica did.

For his part, Chef James blamed some of the bus boys and lower level staff. Without any type of obvious evidence to bring to them, Monica realized that it didn't seem like either one of the owners were interested in pursuing the truth. They were more apt to blame an inexperienced worker for incompetence than one of their head chefs of sabotage. Monica was certain that he was sneaking back into the restaurant in the middle of the night, wreaking havoc, slowing her down, causing her waste numbers to spike, and worst of all, getting people fired who no doubt had nothing to do with it.

Every time something went wrong or something was broken she cursed his name. Unfortunately, her bosses were not very sympathetic, and instead, when she called to complain, the owners made a point to mention that all of these things seem to happen on her shifts. Each incident costing them money. Each delay hurting their reputation. And they wondered, if perhaps, she was the problem. Every time she called Frank and Dave to explain what was going on, even when she had the staff back her up on what she found, they weren't quick to step in. Both men more interested in being hands-off when it came to the restaurant, using a proxy most of the time to conduct their business while they concentrated on other investments. This last call with them was the worst, and when she got off the phone after having to hear another lecture about food waste, she disappeared into the back alley and had a small private meltdown.

The only thing getting her through these last two months was the fact that in a few days, it would be Christmas. Jack and Erica's first Christmas. She was so excited every time she thought about it that she felt like she could burst, even as depressed as she was about her job. It did not matter. She was thrilled to finally be a mom during the holidays. Dressing her children up in festive clothes, the smell of fresh baked cookies filling every room in the house. Watching their little faces as they see the lights blinking from the tree. She had hoped that they would be lucky enough to get one of those gorgeous snowfalls right around Christmas. Where the flakes are big and chunky and everything get covered in a crisp, clean white blanket of snow. She could bundle up her babies and show them this wondrous wintry sight for the first time. Experience it all through their curious, wandering eyes. It was as if the dreams of that fourteen-year-old girl she used to be would finally spring to life.

She was able to put everything going on at her job out of her mind when she was home. Decorating the house in gorgeous greens and reds. Paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling, ceramic statues of Santa and Mrs. Claus, stockings hung along the staircase, a miniature village spread out on a soft, white, cotton sheet, made to look like snow. The little windows of the houses and streetlamps lighting up and flickering a low, warm glow. The tree, perfectly decorated, displayed proudly in the den. On the opposite side of the room, a menorah, a Star of David, an over-sized dreidel, and a blue and white Hanukkah wreath decorated the mantle of the fireplace.

Chandler had brought them home from the city one day after work. Monica was nonplussed at first, she hadn't really properly observed Hanukkah in years. When he brought home the bag of decorations, he simply kissed her on the cheek and began to empty out the contents.

_"This way Ross won't have to dress up like an Armadillo again. Plus, your dad will probably be happy to see it, and you're half-Jewish and that means the kids will have some of that in them too."_

She could only respond the way she always had when her husband displayed his sentimental nature to her. She leaned in, wrapped her arms around his neck, and, in-between kisses, told him how sweet he was through her smile.

The memory made her face light up, and she smiled as she sat on the couch at Central Perk. Thinking about her husband had that affect on her. It's been a tough couple of months, but he could always make her smile. With his roguish grin, a sweet sentiment, a knowing look, a joke, a kiss at just the right moment in just the right spot. Just his presence. And now, that she was thinking about him, all she wanted to do was see him. She started to look out the window for him, knowing he should be there soon as she glanced down at her watch.

"What are you so happy about?"

Rachel's voice shook Monica out of her daydream and back into the real world. She smiled and shrugged her shoulder. She was happy to have the day off from work and arranged this little get together with Rachel, Phoebe and Mike at Central Perk. Chandler was working at the office, and her parents came over to watch the twins. They had enough time for a cup of coffee with their friends and then planned to drive back home together.

"Oh. Just thinking about Christmas."

Rachel, looking a little skeptical, shot a knowing glance at Phoebe before returning her attention to Monica. "Oh, because after you told us about yesterday at work, I didn't think you'd be in any mood to smile."

Monica twisted her face up in disgust. "Ugh! Please don't remind me!"

Phoebe tried to sit up, but struggled and gave up. She slumped back down on the couch and glared at her protruding pregnant belly. "Why isn't he getting fired again?"

Monica huffed and folded her arms tightly. "Because he's a man and the owners are men! It's like he's some master restaurant saboteur but they won't believe it because they all have penises!"

The three women shared frustrated sighs and then they fell quiet for a while. Rachel lifted her head up looked over at Monica. "Why don't you just set up a camera or something? Like a nanny cam. Ross put a couple of those up in our apartment. He is obsessed with them."

Monica straightened up and looked off to the side. "Really?"

"Yeah. Throw a bunch of those around the kitchen and catch that jerk in the act! Then you can be all 'I got you Chef Ass'." Rachel leaned forward and pointed her finger as if she were jabbing it into Chef James's face.

Monica looked back-and-forth between Phoebe and Rachel. "Can I do that? Is that even legal?"

Phoebe turned her head to look at her husband Mike, who was standing at the counter. "We can ask Mike when he comes back. You know, he used to be a lawyer, but he gave that up to pursue his dreams."

Rachel scoffed. "We know Phoebe."

"I'm sorry. What does your boyfriend do again?"

Rachel leaned back. "He does this." She quickly banged her arms together, gesturing at Phoebe with the Ross Geller middle finger.

Phoebe shared a playful, mock expression of offense with Monica as Mike slowly walked back with a mug in each hand.

"Okay Pheebs, I have your decaf with soy."

He stood up and smirked. "Hey. Do you think if soy spoke Spanish it would introduce itself as 'Yo soy Soy'?"

Mike started to snicker at his joke and looked around at the three women who seemed completely unamused. He gestured at them with his free hand.

"Get it? 'Yo soy Soy'."

He gave them one more look of encouragement before a dejected expression washed over his face.

"Never mind. Here's your coffee Monica. I'll just go back and get the other two drinks." Mike grumbled to himself as he stepped back awkwardly to the counter.

Monica watched him walk away and started to trill laughter as she pointed at Phoebe.

Phoebe looked at her with stunned umbrage. She knew she should be insulted by Monica's laughter, but she was not sure why.

"What? What's so funny?"

Monica, finally able to stifle her laughter, shook her head. "Mike just made a Chandler joke. I can't believe I've never seen it before, but he is just like Chandler. You married your own Chandler. All these years making fun of me for being with him, and you married one yourself!"

Phoebe stiffened up, clearly disturbed by Monica's observation. She looked over at Mike and her eyes widened in shock. "What? No, I did not…Mike is very…"

Monica cut her off. "Awkward? Makes bad jokes? Non-threatening? Kind of goofy?"

Phoebe started to become flustered. "Nuh-uh! "No! Mike is nothing like Chandler. Mike quit a job he hated where he made a lot of money and now does something he loves."

Monica's face radiated with smug glee. "I'm sorry, were you just talking about Mike or Chandler?" Rachel started to laugh at the two of them. Monica turned, pointing a finger at her. "Don't even get me started on your boyfriend."

Phoebe nodded along knowingly with Monica as Rachel allowed her smile to shrink down into a pair of pursed lips.

Serendipitously, Chandler entered the coffee shop and lifted his eyes as he saw Monica and Phoebe sitting on the couch. He walked around to face them and darted his eyes between Phoebe, who was slumped against the corner of the couch, and Rachel who was sitting in the chair next to her.

"Hello ladies." He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on the side of Monica's head as he slipped off his coat. "Hey babe."

Monica pulls her legs up underneath her and leaned over the arm of the couch. "I just talked to my mom twenty minutes ago and it sounds like they are doing okay. We probably don't have to head home for at least an hour."

Mike returned to the group with two more mugs in tow. He placed them down on the table and looked over at Chandler."Hey nice shirt!"

Chandler looked down at himself and realized that the two men wearing practically identical outfits. Untucked, button-down, chocolate-brown shirt with one pocket, both men also had the sleeves pushed halfway up their forearms. Each of them also wore faded blue jeans and white tennis shoes.

Chandler looked up and smiled as he nodded. "Wow. It's like we're twins!"

Monica looked over at Phoebe and started to laugh again.

Phoebe, clearly agitated, exhaled sharply in frustration. "Oh come on!"

She then winced and bit as her face contorted in pain. "Oooo. Oohhh. Ooohhh. Chandler. Dammit! I mean Mike. I think we may need to go soon."

Mike sat down on one of the chairs next to Chandler and looked back at Phoebe; his face riddled with confusion. "Really? Why? What's the matter babe?"

Phoebe took a deep breath and let out a long exhale as she tried to regain her composure. "Well, I am pretty sure I'm in labor. I've been feeling contractions for a while and that was the worst one."

Both Chandler and Mike jumped to their feet and hop around nervously. Their eyes darted around the room as they gesticulated wildly with their arms. Simultaneously they both blurt out. "Oh my god! We have to get you to the hospital."

Phoebe balled her hands up into fists and shook them at the Mike and Chandler as her face twisted in anger. "Stop doing that!"

* * *

"I can't believe Phoebe is going to have her baby!" Monica smiled broadly as she could hardly contain her enthusiasm. She reached over from the passenger seat of the car and gave Chandler's thigh a squeeze.

Chandler smiled over at her. "I know. It's incredible. Are you sure you didn't want to go to the hospital with them? I could have taken the train."

"No, no. We have to the twins to deal with tonight. I couldn't ask you to deal with them and my parents all by yourself. Besides, Rachel will be there for as long as she can and she promised to call me with any news."

Chandler nodded as he continued driving, his eyes looked ahead towards their house down the road. "Hey. Did your parents get a new car?"

"Not that I know of."

"There's a black sedan in the driveway."

Monica lifted her head to see the strange car in their driveway as Chandler pulled up and parked the Porsche behind their SUV. "Yeah, who do you think that is? Wait, there's somebody in the car!"

"What?" He looked over and saw a man slumped over in the driver's seat. He then turned back to Monica and shrugged his shoulders,

When they stepped out of the car, the two of them bent over to look at the man and he nodded at them, which only confused them even further.

The moment they stepped into the house, Monica started to slip off her coat.

"Mom? Dad? Is everything all right?"

Her father's booming voice called to her from the den. "In here sweetheart."

As she entered the room, she looked towards her parents who were sitting on the couch. "Dad, who's car is in the driveway?"

Her father gestured in front of him and Monica finally turned her attention to the direction her parents were facing, only to find Nora Bing seated in a chair, sipping at some tea.

"Hello dear! I've been waiting for you."

Chandler finally caught up with his wife and his eyes immediately fall upon his mother. She was dressed in dark slacks, a silky cream-colored blouse that was unbuttoned to the top of her chest. He was mildly surprised at the modest amount of cleavage than she had on display.

"Oh, hello Mother. You look positively conservative. Did someone die?"

"Oh Chandler. I love that dry wit of yours. No, no. I had a business meeting in town before I came here."

"Here. In Westchester?"

"Yes. Let's go for a ride." Nora Bing stood up from the chair and turned her attention towards Jack and Judy Geller. "You don't mind, do you?"

Jack, his eyes wide with suggestive salaciousness as his gaze lingered on Nora's curves, just nodded at her with his mouth agape. Judy elbowed him in the ribs, bringing his focus back from the brink. She shook her head and admonished Jack with a glare. She then smiled and turned back to Nora.

"Oh of course not. Go ahead. We can give Erica and Jack their last bottle when they wake up."

Monica looked over at her mother and wrinkled her brow as she appeared slightly puzzled. "What? Am I supposed to go too?"

Nora laughed. "Of course, dear."

The three of them put their coats on and stepped outside. Nora moved down the driveway with a confident stride.

"Chandler darling, you sit in the front. I want to talk with Monica on the way there."

He shot his mother a discerning look. "On the way where?"

"Shh. Now get up there."

She glided into the back seat and directed Monica to join her from the other side.

"Martin, can you give us some privacy. Chandler, you can talk to Martin."

Chandler eased himself into the passenger seat and turned to face the driver. "Well Martin. You drive here often?"

The driver rolled his eyes, almost imperceptibly. "We don't have to talk."

He then pressed a button on the center console and a barrier began to rise between the front and back of the car. Chandler turned to make apologetic eye contact with Monica before they disappeared behind the opaque wall.

"There dear. That's better. So, Chandler says you're having trouble at work."

Monica shook her head. "What? No. I mean, a little. Why?"

"Dear, in my day, women had to fight twice as hard as men to get where they wanted to go. The publishing world was filled with obstacles for me. It's why I never had another child. If I had gotten pregnant again in those days, I never would have achieved what I have. I was my own public relations firm because the publishing house focused most of their attention on the other writers. None of them half as good as me, and all of them men."

"I don't understand…"

"Monica. It isn't exactly fair to make women choose to either be successful or have a family. The rules never change. We always have to work harder than they do. Why just recently I negotiated film rights for two of my bestselling novels. I got a better deal than the firm had originally procured. And still they wanted to shut me out."

Monica nodded, but her eyes betrayed that she has no idea what Nora was talking about. "Okay."

"A big part of the reason why I was never around for Chandler when he was a child was because I was traveling everywhere to sell my books. Doing the work that the publishing company wouldn't do on my behalf. Soon enough though, it became a part of who I was. Nora Bing the salacious, romance novelist. The more outrageous I was, the more books I sold, but there was a cost. That cost was not being there for my boy."

Monica looked out the window and noticed that they were now driving through the Main Street strip of town. Darkened shops decorated the street as most of them were closed. She turned back to face her mother-in-law, still unsure of what was going on.

"Monica. I like you. You're smart and feisty. You must be a fighter because you made it very far in your chosen field. I know a few people in the high-end restaurant business. It is not easy for women to get ahead. It isn't fair that you should have to compromise what you want."

The car stopped and Nora smiled as she motioned for Monica to exit. She stepped out onto the street and looked up and down. She was familiar with this stretch of stores. There was a chocolatier on the corner with a coffee shop that served really great muffins next to it. A book store. One place that throws "princess parties", which Monica had already dismissed as much too expensive. Across the street was a jewelry store, a yoga studio, a hair salon, a cigar shop, a small local theater that showed amateur plays, movies and sometime had live music, a pizzeria and then, in front of her, an empty store.

Chandler stepped out of the passenger side. She looked at him and wordlessly questioned him, but all he could offer back was a shrug of his shoulder. Nora reached into her clutch bag and pulled out a key. She stepped up to the door of the empty store and opened it.

"This used to be a barber shop in the eighties. Then it was converted into a commercial kitchen. It was a Chinese food restaurant, then a place where they sold hamburgers or tacos. I'm not sure. Now, well, it can serve any kind of food you want."

Monica looked around in the darkened storefront. She could see a small kitchen tucked into the back-left corner. There was an old worn-out bar in front of it with a service window. It had a hallway that led to the back with what appeared to be two bathrooms. She looked around noticing the rest of the space was wide open.

"I don't understand."

Nora pulled Monica's hands into hers and dropped the keys into her palm. "It's yours. Merry Christmas."

Chandler gasped loudly and spun around. The room was dirty, the walls were bare, and tiles on the floor were loose; yet his expression was one of impressed shock.

"Mom, what?"

"Well, my financial advisor always tells me to invest some of my money in all kinds of things. So, I thought, if I am going to invest in something, it might as well be Monica. She is a sure bet."

Monica looked around the room, awestruck. She studied everything. Every inch of the room they were in was already embedded in her memory as images of where tables would go and what color the walls should be began to play in her mind.

"Well dear. What do you think? Are you ready to have your own little restaurant?"

Monica looked down at the keys in her hand and smiled. She then looked up at Chandler, he in return flashed her a dumbfounded half-smile. She looked over at Nora who was smiling at her confidently, and Monica noticed how her eyes radiated warmth. She looked down one more time at the keys and a forlorn expression overcame her.

"I think….I think…"

She looked up one more time at Nora.

"I think the answer is no."


	14. It's Some Kind of Wonderful Life

**It's Some Kind of Wonderful Life**

Once Monica finally settled into bed, Chandler turned to face her. He hadn't spoken about his mother's offer to her since they left the vacant store hours ago. He made sure not to mention it in front of her parents. He even avoided bringing it up once they put the babies to sleep. Yet, he had been thinking about it all night and once they were both in bed, he found that he could no longer hold in his curiosity. As his wife got under the comforter and slid next to him, compelling him to wrap his arm around her so she could rest her head on his chest, he could only voice his deliberations into a simple one-word question.

"No?"

Monica tilted her head up to look at him and smiled as she placed her hand gently on his cheek. "No."

Monica and Chandler had returned home a few hours ago. They thanked her parents for staying and taking care of Jack and Erica while they were out during the late afternoon, first spending some time in the city at Central Perk with a few of their friends, and then later on as they went on an impromptu drive into town with Nora Bing. Monica once again thanked Nora and Chandler had a private word with her outside on the front porch before she left. Soon enough, they were alone. Monica was quiet most of the night. She took a shower, spoke with Rachel on the phone to see if there was any update on Phoebe, who was at the hospital having her baby, and did some light cleaning in the kitchen before joining her husband in bed.

Chandler was sitting up, idly flipping through a magazine, but couldn't get his focus pulled away from this evening's events when they were checking out the property that his mother had purchased, with the intent of allowing Monica to open her own restaurant in one of the empty storefronts. Nora had explained how she was going to be a hands-off property owner, having purchased the building which included a pizzeria, a yoga studio, a hair salon and four apartments.

"It's an investment." Is all she would say when he pressed his mother on why she did this now, and why here in the town they lived in. "I was told I should invest some of the money I received for the movie rights to my 'Address Unknown' series of books into real estate. Well, I thought I could also invest in one of the businesses that operated out of the building as well, and moreover, invest in the woman who was able to fix you."

Chandler watched his wife carefully as she slowly spun around in a circle, her eyes appeared to be memorizing every inch of the space. It wasn't a large room. It wouldn't rival the size of most restaurants in town, instead it appeared more like a narrow bistro you would find in Manhattan, squeezed between two other shops. A place someone might stop at to have a small meal or a light snack and a drink before continuing their day. It was dirty, and except for the kitchen in the back corner which seemed to almost twinkle in the twilight that was breaking through the front window, the entire place would require a complete remodel.

He wasn't sure how his wife would react to such an offer, but he did not expect her to reply with such a terse rejection. Without even walking through the entire place first. Yet, there she was, dangling the keys back at his mother, shaking her head, and politely refusing the offer.

He put his hand over Monica's, feeling the warmth from his own cheek radiate through her fingers and moved her hand over to his lips so he could kiss her palm. "Why not?"

Monica propped herself up, supporting her head with her hand as she rested her elbow on the bed. She allowed her finger to trail along his chest as she watched the patterns she made. "There's so many reasons." She lifted her eyes to the ceiling as she began to list all the things that had run through her mind when she was standing in the middle of the empty store. "I'm a chef, not a business owner. I don't have any kind of staff; I don't even know what kind of staff I could afford or would need. It's small, it would require a lot of work, we have two babies. I don't know anything about budgeting for something like this. I would have no idea where to start."

Chandler nodded and allowed a sly smirk to form at the corner of his mouth. "Okay. I hear you. But why again?"

Monica removed her hand from his chest and sat up, a half-smile flashing on her lips despite her best efforts to appear annoyed at her husband's persistence. She then allowed her face to fall a bit as her tone became soft and rueful. "Worst of all, I'd be walking away from Javu. I feel like I would be letting down all the people I work with. I'd be giving up and handing a great restaurant to that jerk. It would be like losing. It would be worse than losing. It would look like I couldn't handle it, quit and needed to be bailed out by my mother-in-law. Like I wasn't good enough to keep the restaurant I already worked at."

"Oh." Chandler nodded as his eyes dropped down. "You know that wouldn't be true though, and anything with the two little dictators we can work out, right? And you would be closer to home. Imagine being able to see them while you're at work?"

Monica smiled despite her misgivings. "That would be nice. To be so close. But it is such a huge thing. And restaurants fail all the time."

"You don't fail. Look, I'm not saying you have to do this, but maybe think about it a little more. You're miserable at work right now, and you're exhausted all the time. I just want to make sure you're happy. Whatever you chose to do, I'll support that. You know that right?"

Monica leaned closer to Chandler's face and kissed him through her smile. "I know."

"Let's get through Christmas. Then we can talk about it again, and if you are still convinced it is the wrong thing to do, then we will let my mother know not to bring it up anymore. Because if there's one thing I know about my mother, it is that she won't give up so easily. I imagine she is already drawing up a contract even as we speak."

Monica pulled him closer to her and rolled over on her back, positioning him on top of her as she hooked one of her legs around his lower back an ran the other foot across his calf. "Okay. Enough about that. Let's get onto some other business we need to discuss."

Chandler affected his voice with a faux-European accent. "Oh. You mean the business of love."

"Honey. What did I tell you about doing creepy voices like that before sex?"

"Don't do them?"

* * *

Monica rolled over on her side and watched her husband sleep. She knew it was early Christmas morning since the sky was still dark and their alarm had not gone off. She craned her neck to see the face of the clock on the bedside table next to Chandler. Five-forty-three. Much too early to wake him. She lifted her head and heard nothing from the monitor. All was quiet. She had a halfhearted inclination to go for a run, which is how her mornings would usually start, but it looked cold outside and it was warm and cozy under the comforter. She could feel the heat coming off of her husband's body and curled up as she slid her legs closer to him until her feet were nestled against his thighs. Upon making contact, she was overcome with this need for him, and suddenly waking him up too early didn't seem like a bad idea after all.

She could feel his entire body tremble as she touched him, and then heard a contented sigh escape his lips. "In some states, putting your cold feet on your husband while he is sleeping is grounds for divorce." He never opened his eyes, but a dreamy smile spread across his lips as she took her hand and placed it on the inside of his pajama top, stretching her finger along his abdomen. He laughed and shifted a bit on his side of the bed.

"Merry Christmas."

Monica smiled and pulled herself closer to him, sliding her other hand underneath his pillow. "Merry Christmas."

"What time is it?"

"Almost six." Monica brought her lips to his collarbone and traced a few kisses across his neck.

"Ugh, Seriously? Why are you awake? You are worse than a kid on Christmas morning."

"You knew this about me before we got married." She started to move her hand up his chest under his shirt, grazing her fingertips along his body.

Chandler's body reacted with a series of excited shivers. "I don't think that's accurate. So, what are we doing here? Am I getting an early present?"

Monica allowed a seductive, "Maybe" to escape her lips as her breath tickled his neck.

"I never should have let you know that this is the only way to get me to function this early in the morning."

* * *

"Ready?" Monica called down from the top of the stairs as Chandler positioned himself at the bottom with a camera in his hands.

"Are you sure you are okay with both of them?"

"Chandler. I will carry twelve babies if it means getting this picture the way I want."

Chandler chuckled and put his eye up to the viewfinder. "Okay, ready."

Monica, dressed in festive red flannel pajamas, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, started her descent down the stairs. Erica and Jack on either side of her, supported on her hips. Both babies wearing matching outfits to their mother. Chandler can only shake his head at the image of the three of them and then marvels at the fact that she can effortlessly carry these two seven-month old babies down a flight of stairs.

"You are freakishly strong."

He started to snap away, taking as many photos as he could as she continued on her way down.

Monica held a smile, but her one eyebrow raised in scorn at his comment was enough to make Chandler chuckle. She turned her attention back to her children and began to talk to them in a sweet, sing-song voice. "Merry Christmas bunnies. I can't wait to see if Santa came for you guys last night."

Chandler bit his lip, a joke already forming in his mind, but he thought it better to hold his tongue and switched the camera to video mode as Monica made the turn into the den. She gestured with her head to the stockings filled with gifts on the stairway as she passed them. Both babies gurgle as they grimace a little, looking around and sucking on the cloth from her shirt.

"Ooo. Look at all the presents under the tree!"

Chandler pushed the two Bimbo chairs over with his foot and Monica carefully dropped to her knees so she could place each child in their own chair. Jack seemed sleepy, content to look around the room, but Erica was slapping her hands down and blowing air out of her mouth impatiently. Chandler turned the camera off and placed it on the couch.

"Let me get their bottles. Erica looks like she is ready for one now." He darted out of the room, leaving Monica and the babies alone for a few moments.

Monica looked at both of her children, tickling them under their chins while they waited. She imitated Erica, who was still blowing out air and Jack looked over at his mother and began to copy her movements, blowing air out of his mouth as well. The three of them, opening their mouths up wide as they inhale and then blowing out air, almost in sync.

Chandler returned to the den, bottles in hand, and hesitated before entering as he watched them for a few moments. Wife, son and daughter, all blowing air from their lips.

"What did I sign myself up for?"

Monica laughed as she put her hand out, taking one of the bottles from her husband and holding it while Erica began to suckle at it, drinking down the formula. With her other hand, she started to grab at the gifts under the tree and slid them over into groups.

Chandler, using the other bottle to feed Jack, shook his head. "Are you really organizing the gifts with one hand?"

Monica, not pausing in her motions, shrugged one shoulder. "You messed them up last night. This is a better system."

* * *

Chandler placed one more set of clothes into each of the twins' diaper bags, hoping it would be enough to survive Christmas at his in-laws when he heard footsteps lightly pad their way down the stairs. Monica turned the corner and greeted him in the den, wearing a tight red sweater and dark blue jeans. She still had her hair up, showing off her neckline and the necklace he had given her as a Christmas gift this morning. Chandler walked behind her, brushing his nose along the length of her neck as he took in her scent. He placed a few kisses near her jawline and moaned lightly.

"Mmm. Do we have to go to your parents?"

Monica smiled and let out a breathy chuckle. "Yes. We always have to go to my parents on Christmas. It's their thing. They want all their grandchildren over so they can spoil them."

Chandler continued his movements, wrapping his arms around her waist as he dragged his lips down to her clavicle. "Let's stay here and go upstairs so I can spoil you."

Monica laughed. "If we go upstairs to have sex right now, the only one getting spoiled will be you."

Chandler sighed in defeat and disentangled his arms from around his wife. "All right."

Monica turned around and they shared a quick kiss and then broke apart again, going in different directions. She headed to the kitchen to retrieve the bottle bag from the refrigerator and he went into the den to get the twins out of the playpen.

Monica stood at the table for a few minutes and looked out at the bright, sunny Christmas morning sky through the kitchen window while she twirled her necklace between her forefinger and thumb.

"No snow today. It's still kind of beautiful."

"Monica! Come in here! Hurryhurryhurry!"

Monica, shaken from her reverie, turned and scampered into the den.

"Look at Jack!"

She cast her eyes down and watched her son as he used his arms and elbows to pull his body across the room, almost resembling a military crawl.

"Oh my goodness Jackie-boy! You're doing it!"

Jack stopped moving as he got to his intended target and sat up, pulling at the ring stacker that he got for Christmas. He proceeded to take the first ring off and put it in his mouth. Drooling and sucking all over the brightly colored plastic toy.

"Chandler! Did you see that!"

"You know that was me who called you in here, right?" Chandler picked up Erica and placed her on the floor. "Hey princess, you want to see if you can get over to your brother?"

Erica sat up and squirmed a bit, stretching her arms out. She flopped face down on the floor and rolled over to her side; content to lay there, grabbing at her feet as she tried to stick one in her mouth.

Chandler twisted his lips up and tilted his head. "Okay, maybe next time."

Monica clasped her hands together excitedly. "That counts as crawling." She then looked over at Jack, still removing rings and stuffing them in his mouth. "Jackie-baby, that counts! Oh no! We didn't get any pictures!"

* * *

Monica decided to slip out of bed early on the morning after Christmas and take a jog around the neighborhood. She liked the quiet early hours of winter in the suburbs. It was cold, but not painfully so where the air stung your face as you ran. The sky was grey and felt pregnant with snow, causing the air to feel damp. It was early enough that most people were still in bed, or at the very least, sharing breakfast in their kitchens. She only saw one car driving around during the entire forty-five minutes she was running. A stark contrast to what it was like to go for a jog in Manhattan.

Monica preferred to run when it was cold. It almost made her feel as if she were getting more of a workout, though she couldn't say why. It was also a little more comfortable then in the summer. The oppressive heat bearing down on her, making her legs feel like concrete. Her clothes sticking to her body and feeling hot and heavy. But in the winter there was a lift in her step and her clothes stayed cool and light. Even as she felt sweat pool on her back, along her hairline, across her temples, and under her cap. The sweat would chill almost immediately when the cold air hit it. Making it so it wouldn't sting her eyes like it does in the summer.

By the time she returned home and finished cooling down with some stretches on the back deck she could see Chandler moving around in the kitchen in his robe. She watched him for a few minutes as he prepared a pot of coffee and filled some empty bottles with water, getting them ready for the twins' breakfast. She saw him grab a banana from the bowl on the counter and start to slice it up, letting her know that her babies must already be awake and sitting in their high chairs, awaiting their first meal of the day. She thought about entering in through the back door to help, but found it much more interesting to watch her husband strike a delicate balance of tending to their children and his own need for caffeine. She stood closer to the window and could finally see inside, watching as he slid their plates onto their trays, covered in fruit that they could mash up in their gums. It filled her with a sense of accomplishment that this was her life. This was her family. That all of her choices led her here. And that all those choices were the correct ones. Because this is the only place she wanted to be.

She finally broke from her voyeurism and entered the kitchen through the backdoor. Chandler reached over to the counter and handed her a glass with a greenish liquid that he could not help but make a face at.

"Here, one of your gross juices."

Monica took the glass from him as she pinched his side. She leaned over and looked at Jack and Erica, who were enjoying a sticky breakfast of banana and some rice cereal. Pieces stuck to their fingers as they tried to shove everything into their gaping mouths. She smiled at them and they made eye contact, smiled and giggled as their mother's face came into view.

"I think they missed you. They're also really disgusting. You don't want to know what I found in their diapers this morning." Chandler exaggerated shuddering in horror at the thought. "You know, I was reading that they're going to start developing object permeance now, maybe they knew you were gone when they woke up, because they were not laughing and smiling at me like they are now."

Monica looked back and smiled at her husband, still bent over slightly. She returned her attention to her children. "Well you weren't smiling because Daddy calls you adorable bunnies disgusting. Did you miss me? Did you miss Mommy?" Erica stretched out a particularly sticky hand with a mashed-up piece of banana stuck to it in her direction. "Oh, uh, Chandler. I think Erica wants to give you something."

* * *

Monica finished taking her morning shower and slipped into a comfortable pair of jeans and one of Chandler's faded New York Knicks sweatshirts. She tossed her hair back and bounced downstairs. She turned to go into the kitchen but saw Chandler standing in the living room with Jack and Erica bundled up in their car seats.

"Hey, grab your coat. I want us to take a little ride somewhere."

"Where?"

"Into town. We can get some hot chocolate at that new place on Fulton and Main and take a little walk. I already packed some stuff for these two and put the stroller in the car."

Monica shrugged her shoulders and slipped on her sneakers as she grabbed a coat from out of the hallway closet.

* * *

Once they had the twins securely placed into the back of their SUV, Chandler jumped into the driver's seat and checked his watch. Monica elbowed him playfully as she adjusted her seat.

"Got a hot date or something?"

"Have I ever had a hot date?"

"What about with me?"

"Did we go on dates? I thought we just snuck into each other's bedroom late at night. Were those dates?"

Monica shook her head and playfully scolded her husband with her eyes. "So. Going into town, huh? Why do I suspect we're going to stop at a specific empty store?"

"Well, I just thought you should look at it one more time before we called my mom to tell her it was a definite no. You know, see it without that initial shock."

"Chandler. I already told you. It's too much. I'm not ready for something like this. I wouldn't even know where to start."

"Okay, okay. I'm really only going for the hot chocolate. What do I know anyway? You're the expert. If you think it is too much, then we just get this over with so we can move on."

Monica narrowed her eyes and smiled as she shook her head, suspecting her husband was not being sincere about his intentions.

"So, no big speech prepared to sweep me off my feet?"

"When have I ever done that?"

* * *

The car pulled up to the curb and Monica slid a few coins in the meter as Chandler placed Erica and Jack into their stroller. He pulled a key out of his pocket and handed it to Monica.

"Will you do the honors?"

"Where did you get this?"

"I took it from my mother the other night. Just so we could see it one more time."

Monica huffed playfully and approached the front door, slowly sticking the key in and turning it. A jolt of excitement rushed through her as she allowed herself a small moment to imagine she were unlocking the door to her own restaurant, but she quickly let that fantasy subside and thought once more about all the difficulties that would come with having a place like this.

She held the door open and Chandler wheeled their sleeping children inside. He pushed them back towards the rear of the building.

"I mean, you didn't even look at the kitchen. At least look around in there."

Monica sighed again and walked through the back of the store. She stopped at the bar and pushed her finger against the wood. It felt strong and she wondered if just a deep cleaning and some stain would make it look new. She slowly peered into the corridor behind the main room, taking note that there were two bathrooms on her right and an office door down behind the kitchen on her left.

She entered the kitchen, noticing it looked practically brand new. Some equipment was even still wrapped in commercial cellophane. Every piece was clean and shiny. She took a quick inventory and there was nothing missing. Everything she would need to run a kitchen was there. Prep station, grill, fryer; all perfectly sealed, as if it was just waiting for someone to set it free so it could fulfill its destiny.

Towards the back was a door to a small, but manageable walk-in refrigerator. It looked to need some cleaning, and she thought to herself that the shelves could be arranged better for maximum efficiency, but it would definitely be up to the task of handling the demands she would put on it. She stepped back out and looked down at the two freezers. They were deep enough to hold plenty of food, especially if most of the food for the night would be fresh and not frozen. It was truly a perfect kitchen for her and would suit all her needs.

She stepped out of the kitchen and leaned over to look towards the back of the building. A doorway led out to the back, through the window she could see a small patio. Beyond that a fence and entranceway to the back parking lot.

Chandler, observing his wife standing in the doorway of the kitchen, rolled the stroller over to her and leaned up against the wall.

"Well, what do you think?"

Monica looked around one more time with a sad smile on her face.

"It looks good, and some of this stuff is really nice, but I don't know. I think the answer is still no. I mean," she walked out into the main dining area and waved her arms around, gesturing to the space. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

Chandler rubbed the back of his neck, but before he could say anything, someone knocked on the front door. A sly smile started to spread across his lips.

"I hope that isn't someone looking to eat."

Monica shook her head and briskly walked to the door, unlocking it before looking up.

"What are you doing here?"

She opened the door and let Geoffrey, the maître de from Javu inside.

"I got a call that you might be opening your own place and I wanted to see if maybe you were accepting resumes."

Monica looked back at Chandler who averted his eyes from her discerning stare. She pursed her lips and turned back to Geoffrey.

"I, uh, I don't know if that's true. I'm not really a restaurant owner. I'm a chef."

"Well, if it helps, I did take restaurant, food and beverage management courses. If your hiring a manager."

Monica laughed. "Thanks. That's sweet, but really. I'd need so much more than that."

Geoffrey looked out the door and held it open. "I guess that's a good thing. You might have more people looking to work for you."

He stepped back and one by one, most of the staff that she worked with at Javu entered the building. They all started walking around, inspecting the space.

Monica's eyes began to water as she looked on; more people from Javu entered the room. The bartender, the sous chef, line cooks, wait staff, hosts; all smiling at Monica as they walked past her. Each one shaking her hand, congratulating her, asking if she needs help, inquiring about working for her. She brought her hands up to her mouth, overwhelmed by the outpouring of support.

She turned towards her husband, shock still drawn upon her face. "What did you do?"

"Nothing. Maybe it was Santa Claus." Monica rushed over to him and hugged him tightly as he wrapped one arm around her and kissed her on the top of her head. He brought his hand up to wipe her tears away. "I guess maybe he heard you might need some help."

"Are we really going to do this?" She looked up at him and used her sleeve to wipe her face.

"Only if you want to."

Geoffrey walked over to the couple and looked down at the floor. "Sorry to interrupt, but do you have any plans for this place yet?"

Monica smiled and released herself from the embrace with her husband and started to emphatically move her arms. "Well, I thought we could put a chalkboard on this wall where we could write the specials, and it isn't a big space so large meals are out. I was thinking maybe a tapas restaurant and we could serve then in stages. Maybe make specialty empanadas, and…."

Chandler put his hand on her back, cutting off her train of thought as she looked up at him. "I thought you didn't know where to start?"

"Well, I had a few ideas that came to me over the last couple of days."

"You thought of all this that first night, didn't you?"

Monica shrugged her shoulders and made an apologetic face. Chandler huffed out a chuckle, lifted her chin up and placed a soft, quick kiss on her lips.

"I guess this means you're opening a restaurant?"

Monica smiled, her eyes shining with determination. "Yeah, I guess so."

She looked out the front window and noticed that large, chunky snowflakes were beginning to fall. A smile spread across her lips as she heard Jack and Erica begin to stir.

"Oh, perfect timing!"

She grabbed the stroller, pushed it up to the front window and knelt down by the side of it. She glanced over at her children who were already wide eyed and looking around. She pointed out the window.

"Look guys. Snow. Your first snowfall. Isn't it beautiful?"

She looked back at the empty restaurant. She watched as Chandler shook hands with Geoffrey. He smiled and began to greet the other staff members who came over from Javu. Large, slow tears that look like globes formed and trickled down her face.

"Isn't it all so beautiful?"

* * *

A/N – I know. I wrote a sappy, contrived Christmas type story in August. Maybe I'll figure out how to sync up this post-series story to the real-world calendar so at least it doesn't seem so strange. Monica's restaurant is actually based on a place near me that I love and I am going to steal from them liberally. They'll never know.

The title of this chapter, which marks the end of the Javu arc I would think, is taken from two movies. You probably know at least one of them.


	15. Binging in the New Year

**Binging in the New Year**

Monica gingerly tip-toed into the bedroom after her morning shower. She was used to treading lightly throughout the house in the early hours, a result of being awake long before everyone else. She normally went for a run and then, when she returns home, drank one of her homemade juice blends that she prepared the night before as she skims the paper. Soon after that she would wash up and get dressed, and if she had enough time, she might even do a load of laundry or tackle one of the many rooms downstairs that may need the furniture polished or the windows cleaned. She usually could count on getting at least one or two chores completed before the twins began to stir, looking for their breakfast. Today she had to wake up earlier than usual, with a busy day planned, and wanted to take extra care as to not disturb her husband any sooner than he needed to be up.

Her first order of business after breakfast was to stop by the space that would become her restaurant. She still had to say it several times in her head just to process that it was real. Her very own restaurant. Every decision made would be hers and hers alone. Everything done exactly her way, to her liking. The menu, the bathroom tiles, the kind of paper they use in the printer, the style of the tables and the chairs, even how the toilet tissue gets folded on the roll. For the first time in her life, every detail for her place of work would be one-hundred percent Monica.

Even though it had only been a week since she made the life-altering decision to accept Nora Bing's offer, a lot has already been planned and set into motion. Chandler's father, of all people, was helping with the renovations. They would be starting the arduous task of pulling up the old floor, taking off wallpaper, and stripping down the bar today. He swore that "his girl's" were up to the task, and that he wanted to help and be a part of this. The only cost to Monica would be providing food for them and catering the after party for the grand opening of his new show which would debut next month.

After stopping by the restaurant, Monica had to go to work at Javu. When Chandler and Monica worked out their budget, they realized she would need to keep working a little longer than she had hoped. She needed to earn a salary for as long as she could before she had to devote all of her attention to the opening, hoping to at least pay off the SUV they purchased when they first moved to Westchester. Splitting her time between preparations for the new place and working at Javu for a few months was going to be tough, especially when trying to balance that out with taking care of Jack, Erica and the house.

The only saving grace was that it meant she could create and maintain a very detailed and complicated schedule that everyone had to follow. She spent the entire week working on it. A giant calendar on a large piece of poster board that hung on a wall in the kitchen. Filled with work schedules, days off, feeding times, meetings, doctor's appointments, inspections; it was jam packed and color coded. It was her organizational Mona Lisa. It was her masterpiece.

She slowly opened a drawer and slipped on a slight pair of dark red panties. She then removed her robe and pulled out a red sweater, dark toned leggings, and a denim skirt that fell just below the knees. Just as she placed the outfit down on the dresser, she looked up and saw Chandler's reflection in the mirror. He was awake, sitting up with his hands behind his head, and staring at her with a smug smile on his lips.

She made eye contact with him through the mirror and tried to hold back a smile. "What are you leering at?"

"I'm not leering. I'm ogling. There's a difference."

She smirked at that and tried to stifle a laugh. "Okay. What are you ogling at?"

"You. You are so beautiful and so damn sexy. I can't believe that I get to be here and see you all kinds of naked like this all the time."

"Chandlerrrrr." She made sure to moan his name in an exaggerated manor, making sure to extend the "r" at the end of his name so it almost sounds like a lament. "I'm not even wearing my sexy underwear."

"All of your underwear is sexy."

Monica chuckled and caught his eye again through the mirror. "You obviously haven't seen all of my underwear."

Chandler shook his head and dismissed her modesty. "Look. You just have to live with the fact that your husband thinks you are the most gorgeous, sexiest creature to walk the earth."

Monica laughed. "You know, you aren't so bad yourself. You have definitely gotten sexier with age. I like your hair short like that and you dress great."

"That's not a compliment for me. You bought all my clothes." Monica chuckled and focused her attention on the items she laid out on the dresser. Chandler shifted a bit in bed and sat up. "I definitely am hitting above my weight class with you."

Monica mocked offense at his metaphor. "Was that a fat joke?"

Chandler stammered for a moment until he recognized the amused look on her face, the same one she would get whenever she was able to say something that made him tongue-tied. "Unfair woman. You are lucky I find you so irresistible like that."

Monica allowed a playfully salacious smile to lift at the corner of her mouth. "You mean like this?" She started to wiggle her ass as she looked over her shoulder at him.

A tortured groan escaped his lips. "Okay, you have to come back to bed now before you kill me."

Monica turned and prowled over to the end of the bed, sliding her hands slowly along the surface towards his body. "I have things to do this morning. I don't know if we will have enough time."

"I don't need that much time. I swear, you won't even know we did anything."

Monica began to crawl over the top of the bed, stopping once she reached his thighs and she ran her fingers lightly over them. "What about the babies? What if we wake them up?"

"They won't wake up for at least another hour."

Monica traced her fingers over his abdomen, trailing light circles as she rested her head at his waist. "Okay, what about our house guest, who happens to be right down the hall in his Joey room?"

"Do you know how many times we had sex when I shared a wall with him before he even knew we were going out?"

He grabbed her from under her arms and slid her body up over him, feeling every inch of her as she rubbed against him. He let out another low groan at the sensation as she whimpered in his grasp. They shared a long, deep kiss as he moved his hands down to the small of her back and rested them at the top of her buttocks. Monica pulled back and began to lower the sheet so she could slip underneath. She flashed him a stern look and jabbed a finger in his face.

"Don't touch my hair though. I just did it and I do not have time to wash it all over again if you mess it up."

* * *

Joey made his way downstairs, scratching at his scalp as he yawned. He was never accustomed to waking this early when he lived on the east coast, and now that he was in L.A., it was even harder for him to find the wherewithal to function before noon. He was happy to spend the last two days with Monica, Chandler and the twins, but he was not going to miss all the commotion that happened in this house early in the morning when he went back home tomorrow.

Once he reached the hallway, he spun around the corner and entered the kitchen. He nodded his head as a greeting to Jack and Erica, who were seated in their high chairs.

"Morning babies."

They barely registered that someone entered the room, too focused on eating a mix of rice cereal, bananas, and some small cut up pieces of pancake. He nodded again at Chandler, who was sitting in a chair at the kitchen table, sipping at some coffee with a newspaper in his lap. Monica, with her purse under her arm, placed a kiss on the top of both babies' heads as she said her goodbyes to them. She then slid her hand onto Chandler's chest, sharing a quick peck on the lips with her husband.

"Hey Joey! Gotta run! Have a good flight! Call us when you land!"

She nimbly glided past him, through the entryway of the kitchen, into the hall, and eventually out the front door. Joey, shook his head, almost dizzy by her exit. He scanned the room. There was a stack of pancakes on the stove, a plate with some bacon on it in the middle of the kitchen table, a few turned over coffee mugs, juice in a decanter, and some fruit in a bowl. He immediately plated himself a few pancakes and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"So. What is the plan for us on my last day in New York?"

He sat down opposite Chandler and reached to grab a few slices of bacon, quickly munching on one as he waited for an answer.

Chandler leaned over and pushed some errant food closer to each of his children that had slid out of their reach. "I can't believe you're leaving already."

"Yeah. I got lucky though and did everything I wanted to do while I was here. I saw Phoebe's baby, I got to hang out with you and Mon, we all went to dinner for New Year's Eve and I got to hang out with Ross and Rachel, I saw my family and I got to play with these two." Joey nodded in the direction of the twins and then noticed that their faces were a sticky mess of food, formula, and drool. Joey screwed up his face in disgust. "You just gonna leave them like that?"

"Oh yeah. Monica and I just hose them off in the yard once a week. Anyway, what are you complaining about? I've found you looking worse than this in the morning."

Joey made a face and shook his head. "Hey, speaking of Monica. I want to go to see the restaurant!"

"Well, there isn't much of a restaurant there right now."

"No, I know, I just think it would be cool to see where it is, imagine what it looks like, plus, you probably have a sandwich shop in town or something."

"Joe. You're eating right now."

"Yeah, and I'll be eating more later." He shoved another crunchy piece of bacon in his mouth and smiled as he chewed it down.

"All right. We can go into town. I just have to get these two guys cleaned up and changed, put a bag together with some extra clothes, diapers and a couple of bottles, maybe a few toys. Then I need to put the stroller in the car. Is it cold out? Maybe we need to bring their hats and mittens. Oh man, I can use those Sherpa-looking things that we wrap around the car seat. I better check the schedule too, just to make sure there isn't anything else to do today."

Joey blankly stared at Chandler, causing him to stop talking once he noticed his friend's expression.

"Man. Your life sucks."

* * *

Approaching the storefront, Chandler and Joey could hear hammering and crunching wood from inside. A small tinny radio played 1970's style pop music that could be detected through the window. Chandler pat Joey on the shoulder and pointed to the corner of the street.

"Let's walk around back so I can put the twins in the office and avoid all the noise and mess."

Joey nodded and they made their way around to the back of the building. Chandler opened up the back door and the construction noise was so loud it filled the entire back patio, yet it did not seem to disturb the twins. Joey helped him carry the stroller over the door saddle and they pulled it into the office. The two of them became distracted as they heard voices from the front room.

"No honey! If you strip that paint off like that, you're going to leave marks on this nice wood."

"I haven't had nice wood since 1985 dear."

Joey looked over at Chandler, and Chandler offered him up a knowing nod.

"Oh yeah, drag queens are doing the renovations."

"Drag queens can do construction?"

Just then, a tall, Rubenesque woman with red hair tied up in a blue bandanna poked her head around the door. "Honey, I used to remodel houses before I started performing. Drag queens can do anything!" She snapped her fingers at Joey and then disappeared back into the main lobby of the restaurant. Chandler checked on the twins one more time to make sure they were still sleeping and led Joey out of the office, closing the door behind them.

"Here, you can have a quick look around."

Chandler stood back by the entrance to the office to keep an ear available for Jack and Erica while Joey walked around. Most of the floor had been lifted up, revealing the sub floor below. There were three men, dressed in overalls and heavy shirts, pulling off wallpaper on the far side of the room. The woman they just met, wearing dark green jeans and a denim-blue, button-down top was working with an older man who wore a green and white track suit, the two of them stripping paint off the surface of the bar. Joey looked back at Chandler and smiled.

"Wow. I bet this is going to look nice. Monica must be excited!"

Before Chandler could respond, Joey became distracted by a young, voluptuous, blonde woman who entered the restaurant from the front of the building. She had her hair up, wore sunglasses, tight blue jeans and a form fitting purple sweater. Joey nodded and instinctively walked over to her and smiled.

"Hey, how you doing?"

She giggled and Chandler shook his head as he walked over towards the bar. He took a moment to inspect the work that was being done. He felt out of his element, having little experience with construction, and had a hard time figuring out if they had made any progress. Half the paint already seemed to have been removed from most of the wood. He smiled at the redhead who was sanding down the side of the bar and nodded.

"Hello, Miss…"

"Hazel dear. Hazel Nuts."

Chandler grimaced a little at her stage name and slowly blinked his eyes. "Lovely. So, uh, I didn't think you would be wearing, you know, women's clothes while you were working here."

Hazel screwed her face up, appearing mildly annoyed with Chandler. "Honey, these aren't women's clothes. These are my clothes."

Chandler stammered a bit and gestured apologetically. "Oh. Well, uh, I just thought, you know, doing construction you would want to wear something manly."

Hazel put her hand on her hip and smirked. "Honey, I haven't worn anything manly since 1991."

"Really?"

She huffed a bit and then gently placed her hand on his shoulder. "Okay. I'm going to explain something to you and I am only doing this because you are Helena's son. Some of us, this is who we are."

Chandler looked around the room at the other people working. All men. All wearing work boots, jeans and long-sleeved t-shirts. "Really? But everyone else here is…"

"Well, those three over there are the back-up dancers. They don't do drag. And Crystal over here will go back and forth. This bitch can't make up her mind."

Chandler looked over at the man in the green jumpsuit who was working on the top of the bar. "Crystal?"

He nodded and winked at Hazel. "Yes. Crystal Queer."

Chandler looked up at the ceiling and smirked. "That makes sense."

"I mean, even your father hasn't worn men's clothes, at least not until he…."

Hazel's voice trailed off as Crystal jabbed the scraper in her direction in an attempt to shush her.

Chandler looked back-and-forth between the two of them. "Not until what?"

Hazel shook her head and closed her eyes, clearly upset with herself. "Oh, I wasn't supposed to say."

Chandler's eyes opened wider, conveying his concern. "What? Is there something wrong with my dad?"

Hazel shook her head and placed a reassuring hand on Chandler's shoulder. "No, no. He is fine. Just, your father hasn't not been Helena for years. He only started dressing differently for you because he knows it bothers you."

"Really?"

"Darling. As long as I have known her, she has always just been Helena, but ever since we came to New York, she has also been Charles. For you."

Chandler, visibly stunned, could only stand there with his mouth open wide. It took him a few moments to finally find his voice. "But I never asked for that. I mean, he wore a dress to my wedding."

Joey walked over, interrupting them and smiled at Chandler as he pointed at the blonde by the front of the lobby. "Got her number."

"What about the girl in California?"

Joey nodded and gestured reassuringly at Chandler. "This is just a back-up. In case it doesn't work out with the other girl."

Chandler stepped close to him and spoke in a whisper. "You know Joe, everyone in here works for my father." He then points at the blonde who was handing out coffee to the men who were taking down the wall paper. "Even her."

Joey nodded, a sage expression fell upon his face. He started to look around but then stopped and looked at Chandler again as his brow furrowed and he tried to work out exactly what Chandler just said.

Chandler shook his head and rolled his eyes as he let loose an exasperated sigh. "Make the connection Joe."

Joey's mouth opened wide with shock and his hand jumped up to cover it. "Oh my god!"

"Hello ladies!" Charles entered through the front door carrying two large brown shopping bags. "I have lunch." He looked up and smiled as he saw Joey and Chandler there. "Hey you two. Come to inspect our work."

"No, uh, dad. Joey just wanted to see the space before he went back to L.A."

"Oh, that's right. Returning to the city of angels." Charles put the two bags down on a folding table on the far side of the room. "Did you bring my grand-babies?"

"Yeah….yes. They're in the office. Come on. Let's see if they're awake."

Charles rubbed his hands together, eagerly anticipating seeing the twins. The two men walked into the office, and as Chandler let his father walk in first, he took note of his outfit. Tan flat-front slacks, a yellow sweater with a sky-blue kerchief tied around his neck, brown shoes and purple socks. Chandler stopped in the doorway and put his hands on his hips.

"Dad. Can I ask you something?"

Charles leaned down in front of the stroller, his hands on his knees as he smiled at his sleeping grandchildren. "Sure son."

"Are you only dressed like this because you think I don't want you to be Helena?"

Charles stiffened up and shook a finger in the direction of the open door. "Hazel! I swear you couldn't keep your mouth shut if it was glued tight!"

"Dad?"

"Son. I just wanted to do this right this time. I wanted to be back in your life, and if that means dressing like this, then, that's what's I'll do. I know how you feel about my lifestyle."

Chandler exhaled a chuckle and shook his head. "Dad. I wasn't mad at you for being gay, or being dressed as a woman. I was mad because you left, and when you came back, you never talked to me. You just made me your helper with some very questionable shows and slept with the faculty at my school."

Charles looked down. "I'm sorry son. I wasn't a great father. It was a bad time for me to come back then."

"No. You weren't a great father. Not back then. But you know, doing this." Chandler pointed at his father's clothes. "Means you're a pretty great dad right now."

Charles looked up at him and smiled.

"If you want to dress like this, that's fine. If you want to be Helena all the time, that's fine too. I don't want you to pretend to be someone you're not for me. That's how it used to be before you left."

Charles looked over at the twins again, a tear slowly trickled down his cheek. "But, what about them? I don't want to mess them up or confuse them, I mean, I don't want to do to them what I did to you and make things any harder for you and Monica."

Chandler walked over and put his hand on his father's shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

"Dad, as long as you are around and you get to watch them grow up and be as sweet to them as you've been, they won't care if you're in a dress or a suit or a gorilla costume. They're going to love you for who you are. Just like Monica does. Just like I do. Anyway, have you seen the people I hang out with? Helena would fit right in."

Charles looked up, barely able to contain his emotions and dived into a hug with his son, sobbing as his breath hitched. Chandler smiled to himself for a few moments, indulging in a sense of pride. He lifted his head for a second and leaned back as he heard sobs coming from the front of the restaurant. He craned his neck and saw Hazel, Crystal, Joey, the three wallpaper removing dancers and the blonde lady that Joey was definitely never going to call. They were all tearing as a result of eavesdropping on Chandler and his father's conversation.

Hazel wiped her eyes as she walked toward them and looked at Chandler. "Can I have a hug next?"

* * *

Monica quietly closed the front door behind her. She checked the clock on the wall in the den as she slipped off her shoes and placed them on the rack in the hallway. She had hoped to be home earlier than this but the two parties of four showing up just before closing time threw a wrench in the works, causing the restaurant to close an hour late. She ran her hands up over her elbows and hugged herself for a moment. Happy to be home.

"Hey, you're home."

Monica turned towards the couch in the living room just in time to see Chandler stand up as he placed his book down on one of the end tables.

"What are you still doing up?"

"I wanted to wait up for you."

Her shoulders slumped down as she smiled and walked towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"That's so sweet. But don't you have work tomorrow?"

"Yeah, but I wanted to see you before I went to sleep. I feel like maybe we are out of sync lately."

Monica pulled back slightly and smirked as she raised an eyebrow, "We had sex this morning. Really great sex. I'd say we are in sync."

He laughed and placed a quick kiss on the corner of her mouth. "I know. Lately though, it feels like you are up and dressed before I wake up. Then, at night, I am in bed when you get home." He peppered a few more kisses down her neck and on her shoulder. "I just wanted to wait up for my wife. Like I used to. Is that a bad thing?"

"No." She shook her head and smiled. "It's not a bad thing. Maybe we should go upstairs and try to get back in sync."

Chandler smiled and turned to go upstairs, but stopped short as he grimaced and stretched his leg, moaning lightly as if in discomfort. Monica looked at him with concern painted all over her face.

"What is it?"

"I don't know. I think I might have pulled a butt muscle."

"A butt muscle?"

"Yeah. I'm all tight back there. I tweaked something in my butt area." Chandler continued to stretch and twist at his legs as he flexed his buttocks.

"Ugh. It's one-thirty in the morning. I don't have time for this." Monica released Chandler from her grasp and turns to walk away. "This is why you should go running with me. You don't see me pulling any butt muscles."

Chandler limped slowly behind her. "Can I pull on your butt muscles?"

Monica turned her head away from him so he couldn't see her as she fought a smile. She started to walk up the stairs and Chandler hobbled behind her, still working to loosen his tight muscle in his backside.

"I guess this isn't a good time to tell you my dad is going back to wearing dresses all the time then, huh?"


	16. What's in a Name?

**What's in a Name**

It is a frigid Sunday morning, typical for February in New York. The grey sky outside looks like dirty wool. The air is heavy and pregnant with the promise of sleet and snow. The streets are silent and the houses along the block are still. It seems the entire neighborhood has decided to stay indoors, intent on hibernating the day away in order to avoid the inclement weather that promises to arrive soon. Monica and Chandler were no different, already resigned to a quiet day inside after breakfast. Of course, that was only after a careful consultation with the Mona Lisa schedule that hangs in the kitchen. Luckily for today, it only has one word written down in Monica's elegant handwriting: "Recipes".

The progress in the restaurant was going much better than most people would have anticipated, making it a good day for the two of them to stay home. They are actually ahead of schedule, which would be a welcome surprise, if anyone other than Monica Geller was in charge. The new floor had been put down, gorgeous dark wood laminate from front to back. The walls were painted a muted shade of yellow with one accent wall done in purple. The entire back wall was a large chalkboard, which would be used to write down special menu items and specialty cocktails. The bar had been sanded down and stained with an extra polyurethane finish. It was amazing how much you could do in a short amount of time when you have four drag queens, a piano player, and a trio of background dancers helping.

Her next step was to visit some vendors and find tables and chairs within her price range with a design that she approved. According to the paperwork from the building manager, she could have up to seventy-five people in the restaurant. They had figured that worked out to seating for sixty in the dining room after they took into account the employees and the few chairs they would have at the bar. She already planned on having a long, cushioned bench to run along the side wall. Helping to create the casual atmosphere she wanted to establish. The bar was small and would have four or five stools, and there was room in the rest of the dining area for some small tables that could be pushed together for larger parties. She can practically see every inch of how the dining room should look, everything except for the style of the decor. That still eluded her.

She was working on menu ideas all the time. Scribbling down notes in a little pad she carried around with her. Everything would be shareable. Small dishes of no more than four items, brought out one plate at a time. She wanted to mix and match flavors. Mediterranean tacos, flat bread pizzas, poutine, meat skewers, bao buns, tempura, empanadas. Focusing on unique flavor combinations and textures. Food people would order and demand their friends try.

The hardest part, was the name. She was stumped. Should it be a person's name? Monica's? Geller's? Jack's? Erica's? Something that sounds unique? Vinoco? Butterfields? Something in another language? Chez Nous? Casa de Sabor? She was stumped. Chandler had taken a few of her ideas and brought them into work, thinking maybe someone in his graphic design department could mock up a few signs and make it easier for her to decide with some visual aids.

Today though, she would put thoughts of chairs and tables and restaurant names out of her head. Instead, after some playtime with Jack and Erica, she was going to cook. Chandler, as always, would be her canary in a coal mine. Tasting food along with her all day. She already prepped most of the ingredients last night, making the actual workload today easier and more efficient.

She could already hear the three very distinct giggles coming from the other room, which signaled that playtime had already started and she smiles at the thought of joining the rest of her family in the den. She slowly strolls over and stands in the entryway, looking down and shaking her head as she watches her husband, lying on his back, placing a soft, plastic block in his mouth and then blowing it out with great force, causing it to fly into the air and land on the floor next to him. Erica and Jack would watch and laugh uncontrollably, causing Chandler to titter along with them. She wasn't sure if the twins actually understood what he was doing, and were laughing at that, or if they were just giggling because it was resulting in such an exaggerated response from their father.

Erica, having surpassed her brother in crawling, now able to use her hands and knees to get around, scurries over to the block, but instead of giving it back to her father, she sticks it in her own mouth, sucking at the air around it. Jack, still only able to slither along the ground, pulling himself around with one arm, loses interest now that Chandler wasn't immediately shooting the block out of his mouth. He drags himself a few feet away and starts to grab at other toys that are spread out on the floor. Chandler reaches across and begins to tickle Erica's belly and she falls over, curling up around his fingers. She drops the block, which he snatches back up so he can start the entire routine all over again.

Monica, smirking and tapping her foot, folds her arms. "I think I have three children in here."

Chandler looks up and smiles at his wife. "You know. I think I have been going about this all wrong. I've been using all my jokes on adults when babies should be my target audience. They think I'm hilarious!"

Monica offers him a sympathetic smile. "Honey, this morning they thought an empty cereal box was hilarious."

Chandler rubs his chin. "Well, you have to admit, that box did have some really good material."

Monica shakes her head and looks over the mess that is already being made in the room. Content to let it slide and put it out of her mind, knowing that her husband has become very good at straightening up after playtime with the babies. Suddenly, her attention is drawn down sharply at her feet as Erica had crawled over to her and is beginning to reach and grasp at her leg, snatching fistfuls of Monica's pants as she drags herself up until she finally wobbles into a standing position, now up to her feet, supporting most of her weight on Monica.

"Oh my goodness! Baby! Are you standing up?" Erica keeps pulling and stretching, as if trying to climb up Monica's leg and into her arms. "Oh sweetie, I'm so proud of you." Monica reaches down and pulls Erica up, resting her on her hip as she nuzzles her neck. "Chandler! Did you see that?"

Chandler gets up to his knees and smiles proudly as he looks on. "Wow. Looks like you got in here just in time. She must have been saving this move for you." He turns to find Jack, who found his way to one his favorite toys. He is laying on the floor on his belly, smashing buttons with his hand, causing different Sesame Street characters to pop up out of a compartment with each one he hits.

Monica looks over and exaggerates a pout. "Hey Jack, don't you want to join your sister? Don't you want to see Mommy too?"

Jack, turns at the sound of her voice but then returns his attention to the toy, almost methodically pressing buttons, faster and faster, two at a time, as if he is trying to get the entire cast of colorful characters out of their hiding spots all at once.

"I guess he prefers to slide around. I'm sure he'll get up when he's ready. He's relaxed like his old man."

Monica shoots her husband a skeptical look and then twists her face up. "Woah! You stink baby girl." She crinkles her nose as she takes one more whiff, leaning her head down a little closer to her daughter's body. "All right, let's go take care of that."

Chandler flashes a thumbs up as he lays back down and shuts his eyes. "Good job Erica. That's what we talked about, wait for mama to show up, then do that."

Monica lets a half smile curl at the edge of her lips and shakes her head. "Jack, while I'm gone, work your magic. Yours is always worse anyway"

Jack's only response to his mother is a few bubbles of spittle from his mouth and he blows air out through his lips. Chandler winces, but stays in repose and starts to imitate snoring noises.

* * *

Sitting at the kitchen table, Chandler alternates between feeding Erica and Jack. He has two spoons, and dips them into two bowls. One of them pureed green beans and the other butternut squash, He fills up one spoon and as he gets it into one of his children's mouth, he begins to fill up the other spoon. Back and forth, one at a time, making sure both babies eat everything they're given. "Hey, I think this is my strong suit."

Monica, who is pulling a few trays from the oven, keeps her eyes on the task she has presented herself. She speaks but sounds as if she is only half-listening to her husband. "What is that?"

"Feedings. Look at how they just gobble it up. I got two spoons working, I'm hitting all the food groups. I'm a pro."

Monica wipes her hands on a dish towel that was hanging over her shoulder and turns to inspect his handiwork. Jack and Erica, both with green and orange baby food running down their chins. Their hands sticky as they try to grab the bits of pureed food that fell on the tray in front of them. She screws up her face thinking of the work that will be needed to get them squeaky clean again. "Yeah, that's because this is where most of the mess comes from. You get them all sticky and I have to clean them up."

"I help with baths." Chandler puffs his chest out a bit and pretends to be insulted by his wife's insinuation.

Monica lets her eyes close for a moment and then opens them up again slowly as if she were refreshing her patience. "You hold the towel." She then starts to cut the empanadas on the tray in half. Once that is complete, she walks over and shoves a small piece in Chandler's mouth. "Well, feeding you is my strong suit."

Chandler wiggles his eyebrows and speaks around the food he has in his mouth. "That's not the only thing you're good at!"

Monica allows a smug smile to lift the corners of her mouth. "Oh, I know. And I'm not just good at it, I'm great at it."

Chandler chuckles as he swallows down her first offering. "Wow, that was really good. What was that?"

Monica, now appearing to be experiencing some mix of bashfulness and pride, holds up the other half to her mouth. "Truffle mac and cheese empanada." She takes a small bite to try it for herself and nods in agreement with Chandler. It was good. She grabs another piece from the tray. "Here. Now try this. It is a Caribbean jerk meatball empanada."

She slips it between his lips and he starts to munch on it. "Mmm! Oh wow. These are so good." He looks over at the tray she had placed on the table. Empanadas cut in half and piled high. "Uh, how much did you make?"

He returns his attention to feeding the twins who have now taken turns slapping their hands down on their highchair trays. Babbling a bit and blowing air from between their lips. Monica dismisses him with a wave of her hand. "They're small. Plus, I am bringing some of these into the city tomorrow and on my way to work I thought I would give them to Ross and Rachel. This way they could heat them up and try them. I even have a few vegetarian ones for Phoebe to taste."

She then grabs another piece from the tray and shoves it in his mouth. "Mmph. Oh wow. What is this?"

"That's Thai chicken."

Chandler closes his eyes for a moment, almost in a state of ecstasy. "Monica, these are amazing."

Monica chomps on another one herself as a boastful expression falls upon her face. "I know! Although the Caribbean Jerk one might need just a little more ginger." She looks over and tries to cover her mouth as she laughs. Shaking her head at the view she has of her family. Chandler, Jack and Erica all with food stuck to their chins. Each one has the same sleepy yet satiated look on their faces. She reaches over and grabs a container of face wipes. She pulls one out and begins to clean Jack and Erica's faces. She then takes the wipe and uses it on Chandler's chin. "Yep. Three children."

Chandler, confirming that the twins have eaten all the food he had taken out, opens his eyes wide. "I almost forgot. I have some of those mock signs made up. I thought you might like to look at them tonight after we get these two down to sleep."

Monica grabs two of the baby bottles filled with formula and hands one to her husband. Chandler offers his to Jack and Monica feeds hers to Erica. "Okay. That sounds like fun."

* * *

"Ooo, this one is actually nice, but I don't know if I like 'Geller's Place'. Makes it sound like a bar."

Chandler takes the sheet from her and pulls another one from the folder. "Okay, what about this?"

"I like this. 'Monica's'. That has a nice ring to it, right? I think it just has to be something simple and easy to remember. That would probably be best."

Chandler starts to get flustered. "Oh, yeah, simple. That makes so much sense." He quickly tries to pull a sheet from the bottom of the stack without her noticing. He shoves it behind his back and as she looks at him with a quizzical expression, he just offers back to her a nervous smile.

"Chandler. What's that?"

"What's what?"

"The piece of paper you're holding behind your back."

Chandler pulls it out and looks at it, his face clearly expressing how unimpressed he is. "Nothing, just something for work that I accidentally put in there."

Monica flashes a pair of doubting eyes down at the page and then back up to him. "Why would it be with the signs?" She holds her hand out insistently. "Let me see."

He relents and hands it over. "Okay. But really, It's nothing. Just a dumb idea I had that looks terrible. We should just forget about it."

Monica shakes her head and smirks at him. "Let me see." She flips the page over and studies it for a few moments. A soft smile stretches across her face. The background is purple, almost an exact match for the color of their old apartment. Two lines of text enclosed inside a yellow frame, just like the one they used to have on their door over the peephole. In the center, a single red casino die, stuck on its corner between four and five. She smiles and reads the name aloud. "It's a Four?"

Chandler looks down and traces a circle on the table. "I thought, since you said all the dishes you were going to serve would have four things on them…" He trails off and shakes his head. "It made me think of this. I know, it's stupid."

Monica takes his hand and squeezes it as she catches his eyes. "Oh honey, it is really cute that you thought about this. I don't know if it is a good name for a restaurant though. It might not make sense to anybody."

Chandler weakly offers her an embarrassed smile. "Oh, yeah, I know. I wasn't serious about it. Really."

Monica brings his hand up to her mouth and kisses his knuckles softly. "No, really, It is nice. It is so sweet that you remembered this."

He gets up and starts to take it from her. "I'll just toss it in the trash."

Monica tugs it away from him and scowls. "No!" She closes her eyes and her features soften as she opens them again. "No. I want it. As a keepsake. Is that okay?" Chandler nods and smiles back at her. Monica stands up from the table and stretches her arms out, still holding the page in her hands. "Actually, I think I might take a shower and wash all this food smell off me."

Chandler eyes her suggestively. "Oh? But you smell so good. I was actually thinking about eating at Monica's tonight."

She huffs out a dismissive laugh. "Calm down Romeo. Let me take a shower and after that, maybe we can both eat in together."

Chandler claps his hands and rubs them together as a salacious grin spreads across his face. "Oh goody!"

Monica steps away from the table and walks through the entryway. She calls out to him as she is about to start her ascent up the stairs. "You know. If you get a roaring fire going in the den, I might not even need to wear anything after my shower and I can just lie down on the rug, getting all warm and toasty!"

She hears a chair squeak against the floor as Chandler frantically pushes himself back from the kitchen table. "On it!"

She reaches the top of the stairs and walks into her bedroom. Her eyes never leaving the piece of paper with the sign her husband had designed. She smiles as she slides open the top drawer of her bedside table. She reaches her hand inside and pulls out a small box, taking care to open gently it and places it on the bed. She pulls out a red casino die and holds it up to the sign. A perfect match. She kisses the die and puts it back in the box. She carefully folds the paper up and lays it on top, closing the box back up and returning it to the drawer. As she walks over to the door and pulls her robe down from a hook on the back, she can't help but chuckle to herself. "Maybe it isn't that bad of a name after all."


	17. Opening Night

**Opening Night**

If you ask Monica Geller-Bing what she was truly great at, she would probably tell you that she was a master at many things. Cooking, cleaning, sexual prowess, fitness, games of chance, games of skill, athletic competitions, knowing all the names of Joey Tribbiani's sisters (in order from oldest to youngest), Christmas gift hiding, decorating; the list would be endless. However, if pressed to name just one thing that she is the absolute best at, she would have to admit that her greatest gift is her ability to forge order out of chaos.

There is not a tangled mess of a situation that she could not untie. Need to plan a last-minute surprise party? She's your gal. You only have three days to pack-up and dispose of an apartment filled with junk, saved for decades by an anti-social hoarder-hermit? She's your coordinator. You need someone to cater an on-again, off-again, on-again lesbian wedding? Done, with nary a tear shed. You need help turning a bulldozed building into a gorgeous space, perfect for a wedding ceremony? She's got you and that hole in the wall covered. You need someone to coordinate a wedding during a blizzard? Just hand her a headset and watch her go.

So, when the chance to turn an empty, worn, husk of a store into a brand-new restaurant with a timeline of only three-and-a-half months arose, she was practically drooling at the opportunity. Barely able to contain herself at the prospect of using her lifetime of organizational skills to accomplish the daunting task. She knew how much work was going to be involved once she accepted Nora Bing's offer, but she also knew how well she performed under that kind of pressure. She had to navigate past the holiday season, make it through New Year's and motivate people to work during the cold months of January, February and March in order to finish on time. She was able to stay on track thanks to the Mona Lisa schedule, which helped her run the household and keep track of the work being done in the restaurant. She was thrilled to get help from Charles Bing, who was now only dressing as Helena Handbasket, and his troupe of performers. She was firm and demanding, never accepting of even the slightest blemish throughout the entire process. Hazel Nuts and Crystal Queer, who were doing the woodwork, had confided in Chandler that this was the first straight woman who they were truthfully afraid of since they came out of the closet.

It was the longest three-and-a-half months of her life, and yet, at the same time, it was also the shortest. And as soon as she worked her last shift at Javu a week-and-a-half ago, taking herself and the best of the staff with her, time began to speed up. Everything was still right on schedule, but at a much more frenetic pace. Liquor license, permits, vendor orders, inspections; it flew past her, buzzing around her head, practically making her dizzy at times. Chaos in need of order.

And now, as she sits here at the edge of her bed, the morning of her restaurant's soft opening, a day that she has planned down to the last possible detail, she is still facing chaos that needs to bend to her will. A brand-new kind of chaos that had just reared its ugly head today. Staring her in the face and for the first time in her life, she is not sure what she is supposed to do with it or even how she can make any sense of it; so instead, she is going to ignore it. Work through it. Work around it. Avoid it by concentrating on her job and the rules and sweet beautiful order. Focus on what she could control now, and work out a plan for the newly discovered chaos later.

She stands up straight and shakes her head, putting her energy into getting dressed. She did not know exactly what to wear today. It is the end of March, and the weather is at that infuriatingly indecisive state. Stifling hot in the sun but freezing cold in the shade. It is that time of year where you would constantly be taking your sweater or coat off and on and off and on and off again; never able to find the perfect outfit for the temperamental temperature. She knows that later in the evening she will be wearing her chef's coat and hat with a simple pair of casual black slacks and her most comfortable work shoes; but for the afternoon leading up to when they are finally ready to open their doors for the first time, she wants to dress the part of the strong business owner, the sophisticated restauranteur who is stopping by her place of business to oversee the staff's preparations for tonight.

Everyone is coming. Helena and her entire group of drag queens, musicians and dancers from her new show would be there. Nora Bing was bringing a date and a few guests that she had declined to name. Her parents are coming, of course, along with Ross, Rachel, Phoebe and Mike. A few of her aunts, uncles and cousins would also make the trip from Long Island. Even Rachel's father was coming. When all is said and done, it will probably feel more like a party and less like the first night running her own restaurant, but it is a good way to test how well prepared they are going to be for the real deal, when the place is packed with actual paying customers for the first time.

Ross is already downstairs; he came over early to help out, making himself available for a possible emergency run to the restaurant depot outside of town or help fix any last-minute equipment malfunction. As frustrating as he can be at times, Monica knows how lucky she is to have a brother like him. He is always there for her when she needs him, and his overprotective tendencies have always let her know how much he loves her.

Chandler had left to run some errands after breakfast and her brother was watching the twins while she took a shower and got dressed. By the time she finished and made her way downstairs, Jack and Erica were already asleep, just at the beginning of their early afternoon nap. Ross put them in their cribs and then decided to wait for her downstairs in the living room, watching television at a low volume. As she steps into the room and looks down at her brother on the couch, he appears close to dozing off himself, his eyelids heavy and his head bobbing down uncontrollably. Ross doesn't even notice her in the room and only stirs when he hears the front door shut as Chandler returns home.

Chandler smiles as he approaches his wife, a colorful bouquet of flowers in his hand. He lets his eyes trail up-and -down her body as he takes in the ensemble Monica had put together. Her hair was loosely pulled back into a ponytail. She was wearing a dark, form fitting skirt and a white blouse which hugged her at her hips. "You look amazing." Monica smiles at the compliment. "These are for you, boss lady." He hands her the flowers and Monica blushes slightly as she gives him a kiss on the cheek.

"Oh, these are lovely. Let me put them in some water." She turns to leave, and heads into the kitchen.

Ross lifts his head, still a bit sluggish. "Boss lady? Oh, yeah, because of the restaurant."

"Oh no. I always called her…I mean, yes. Because of the restaurant. She's not the boss here at home. That would be ridiculous." Chandler looks down sheepishly. "We're both the boss."

Ross looks over at him, a skeptical expression on his face and Chandler decides to look towards the kitchen, avoiding his stare. Monica darts back into the hallway, already wearing her coat. She approaches her husband and places her hands on his chest. "Okay, now Chandler. Make sure to dress Jack and Erica in the outfits I laid out on our bed for tonight. My mom and dad will bring them back here at seven and put them to bed so we can stay. Also, I switched out your tie. The grey one will go much better with the suit I bought you than the one you chose. Okay, I'll be back at four so we can all go together tonight. Make sure everyone is ready to leave at five! I need everything perfect! Please do not have any dairy after lunch because you know it gives you gas."

Chandler blinks his eyes open wide and then nervously turns to Ross. "See, we're both the boss." Ross shakes his head and laughs.

Monica, a puzzled look on her face, decides to brush off their odd behavior and gives Chandler one more kiss on the corner of his mouth. She waves goodbye to Ross as she bounces down the hallway and out the door. Ross lets a louder, more obnoxious laugh escape his lips. "Oh, yeah. You make all the decisions together."

Chandler shudders out of embarrassment and finally takes his coat off. He walks past the entranceway to the living room towards the closet in the hall and notices that Ross' suit is carelessly flung over the back of the couch in the living room. "Hey man. I'll hang your suit up in the closet. You know Monica will kill you if you come to the opening with creases." He roughly picks up the suit and as he turns to hang it up, the coat drops to the floor and a small box falls from the inside pocket. He picks up the box and studies it for a moment. "Ross? What's this?" He opens it and gasps, jabbing the exposed diamond ring in Ross' direction.

Ross gets up from the couch and turns to face him. He breathes in deep and with one hand covers his mouth and with the other, he snatches the box from Chandler's hand. "Hey! Don't go through my stuff! And why is my jacket on the floor!"

Chandler looks at him and his eyes go wide. "Oh Ross, is this what I think it is? Please tell me that isn't what I think it is."

Ross looks down. "Yeah, it is. I thought tonight would be perfect night to, you know, propose to Rachel. All our family will be there. It's already a special occasion. What could be more special than a proposal?" Ross smiles proudly and a wistful look glosses over his eyes.

Chandler starts to wave both his index fingers in the air emphatically, crossing them over into an X at times to punctuate his word. "No. No. No-no-no. No-no-no-no-no! You can't do that. This isn't a special occasion for everyone. This is a special occasion for Monica. You can't turn her opening night into your engagement."

Ross screws up his face as his brow wrinkles in confusion. "What? Why not? She'll love it. Monica loves stuff like this. She's all about the romance!"

Chandler, a look of disbelief on his face, stammers and shakes his head. "Are you crazy or just an idiot? Do you not remember how mad she got when all you guys did was kiss on the same night she got engaged? Imagine what would happen tonight."

Ross relents a bit, but still appears not to fully understand what his brother-in-law is trying to say to him. "Yeah, but this is different."

Chandler, still frantically waving his hands, starts to speak in a more anxious tone. "No, it isn't. Not at all. Oh man, she is going to murder you. And now that I know about it, she's going to kill me too." Chandler hops around on his feet for a moment and then takes his fingers to his chin and calms down. "Unless I can convince her she needs me around to help take care of the babies." He then jabs his finger back at Ross, his agitated tone returning. "That'll never work. No, she will kill me. You have to wait. Can't you do it tomorrow? Or, next weekend? Why would you ever think doing it tonight at the restaurant would be a good idea."

"But nothing special is happening tomorrow. Look, if it makes you feel any better, I'll talk to Monica first." Ross looks down at his feet.

Chandler eyes his brother-in-law for a few moments. "No, you won't. You're doing that lying thing Joey told us about."

Ross, unconvincingly shakes his head. "Nuh-uh."

Chandler, his incredulous expression only being overshadowed by his bulging eyes. "Yuh-huh."

Ross straightens up and a serious expression falls over his face. "Okay. I promise I won't do it until I speak to Monica."

"Are you serious? You won't do anything until you talk to her?" Chandler puts his hands together as if pleading with Ross. "Please tell me you're serious."

Ross nods. "I am, cross my heart."

Chandler wipes his brow in an exaggerated manor and lets out a deep exhale in relief. "Oh, thank god. That would have been a disaster." He puts his hand on his heart as if he thought he was having a heart attack and then walks into the kitchen.

Ross smirks and looks at the ring box. "Oh yeah, I _won't _do it tonight. Sure, I'll _talk _to Monica. Pfft, yeah, right." He sticks the box in his pants pocket and sits back down on the couch.

* * *

Monica arrives at the restaurant, which is already bustling with commotion as tables are being moved into place. She looks up at the sign that is covered up on the front of the store and smiles. She had decided on a name and commissioned a local company to make the sign last month. She told no one what she picked and swore the members of her staff who did know to secrecy. The reveal would be part of the celebration.

She walks into the main lobby and can't seem to get the grin on her face to stop. Her cheeks are almost in pain from all the smiling she is doing. She walks back towards the kitchen, Julio, her sous chef is already there, prepping food. They have a staff of three line cooks for tonight, all already setting up their prep stations. The bar was fully stocked and a list of specialty cocktails were written down on some placards. She turns and looks at the specials' chalkboard. Everything is still written just as she had done two nights ago. Already solidifying the menu. Soon enough the waitstaff would arrive, and she could have a pre-shift meeting with the entire crew. This was going to be the easy part. The actual running of a restaurant for the night. That is a kind of chaos she is used to. The kind of chaos she can handle.

"Monica!"

Monica quickly turns around and smiles. "What are you doing here so early?"

Her father steps closer and wraps her in a tight hug. "I just had to see you before it got so busy. I dropped your mom off at your house, she wants to check and make sure everything is ready for tonight while we watch all the kids. You know how she can be. Everything has to be perfect."

Monica smiles and shakes her head. "Yeah, I know. I'm so happy to see you, but there isn't anything to see here yet."

"Nothing to see? I'm here to look at my little girl living her dream. The place is gorgeous! I am so proud of you."

Monica beams as he leans in and wraps her up again in his arms. Jack Geller kisses her one more time on the top of her head. "But why is the sign still covered up?"

"I'm going to have someone pull it off when we all get here tonight. It's a surprise."

Jack smiles again at his daughter and looks around the room. His chest puffs out as he can barely hold in his excitement. "You know princess, you did it. You always wanted this and you went out and did it."

"Well, I had help. Nora really did this."

"Oh nonsense. You are the one who is here right now, unless, is Nora here?" Jack starts to fuss with his hair a bit, trying to flatten a cowlick.

"Gross Dad. That's Chandler's Mom. Plus, what about my Mom. You know, your wife?"

"Well, funny that you mention that pumpkin. One time, while your mother was still pregnant with you, we decided to have a bet to see who could guess the sex. I said you were going to be a girl and she said she was having another boy. Well, as time went on, the stakes kept getting higher and higher, and well, long story short, your mom owes me a threesome."

"Oh, gross Dad. I don't want to hear about your weird sex stuff with Mom on my opening night. You are not allowed to try and have a threesome with my husband's mother. Especially tonight!" Jack Geller just winces a bit and nods reluctantly as he purses his lips in defeat. Monica shakes her head. More last-minute chaos she needed to hammer into shape.

* * *

By the time Monica returns home to change quickly into her chef's uniform and check on the twins, most of her houseguests have already arrived. Her father and mother were in the den with all four of their grandchildren. Jack and Erica, the center of attention as Ben and Emma goad them into playing with them on the floor, the older cousins trying to get the babies to walk back and forth while holding their hands. Only Erica is up to the task, already able to take a few steps as long as someone was there for her to hold onto. Jack seems to be content to slither along the ground as he moved from toy to toy.

Monica quickly loses her jacket and slides down to her knees in the den so she can have a few moments with her children, minutes that she had already allotted herself thanks to the Mona Lisa schedule. Once she feels that she spent as much time as she could cooing and cuddling her children and giving her niece and nephew big hugs, she went to the kitchen to see her friends quickly before she had to run upstairs and get changed. Rachel, Ross, Phoebe, Mike and Chandler were all there, sipping at coffee and chatting loudly.

Chandler turns his head as soon as she enters the room. "Hey! It's the prettiest chef in New York!" He jumps from his chair so he can pull her into his arms for a quick kiss. "How is it going?"

"Ugh, busy. Really busy. I only have a few minutes and then I need to get back there. Are you guys ready to go?"

Rachel brings her hands up to her chin, her lips quivering as if she were about to cry. Her voice becomes high pitched and some of the words are barely perceptible as she punctuates each one with hitched breath. "I just can't believe this is finally happening. I'm so happy for you!"

Monica immediately tears up and loosens herself from her husbands grasp so she can wrap her arms around her friend. "I know! I'm so happy too." The two women stand in the kitchen, crying as their breathing becomes erratic, overcome by the emotion.

Phoebe allows a frown to spread across her face as her eyes grow moist with tears. "Hey! I'm happy too!" She gets up and both women invite her in as they share a tearful three-way hug.

Chandler softly elbows Ross and chuckles. "This is not how we always imagined a threesome between them, huh?"

Ross twists his face into one of disgust. "Eww, dude. That's my sister and my girlfriend!"

Chandler looks up and nods as he lets his fingers dance along his chin. "Oh yeah, that was Joey, not you."

"I'm so happy that I can't even get mad at how much of a pig your husband is." Rachel squeaks out.

"I know, but I'm still going to yell at him about it later." Monica squeezes her two friends tightly, causing the moment to end as Phoebe yelps in pain.

"Monica! Too hard! Too hard!"

They separate and start to laugh as they sniffle through a few more tears. Mike grabs a tissue box from the counter and hands it to them as they dry their eyes. Monica smiles as she takes another look at her friends. "I'm so glad you guys could all make it. Phoebe, Mike, it really means the world to me that you would come out so soon after the baby was born."

Mike approaches Phoebe from behind and places his hands gently on her shoulders. "We wouldn't miss it! Plus, my parents were overjoyed at the idea of having Fiona over for the night."

Phoebe looks over her shoulder sternly. "Fi Bea." To which Mike can only groan and roll his eyes. "I'm actually looking forward to a night off. I love that little muffin so much, but she is really needy."

Mike purses his lips and shrugs his shoulders. "Well, she is only three months old babe."

Phoebe shakes her head incredulously. "I know. You'd think she would have gotten with the program by now."

Monica exhales out a laugh until her smile fades as she spies two pizza boxes on the counter. "Hey! What happened? Did you guys order pizza? We're supposed to be eating dinner in an hour! Why would you guys spoil your appetite like that?"

Rachel's eyes widen defensively and she gestures with her hands for Monica to calm down. She steps over to the kitchen counter, placing her hand on one of the pizza boxes. "Mon. We did not order pizza. Joey did."

"What?"

"Well, I guess he wanted to send you something since he couldn't be here, and apparently, he didn't think flowers would be appropriate so he ordered you pizzas."

Phoebe sits back down at the table and looks over at Monica. "Oh, but it's so sweet. He had them write out 'good luck' in pepperoni."

Rachel lifts the cover and Monica leans over to look inside, nodding with a slightly impressed expression on her face. Rachel then opens the second box. "This one says, 'Love, Joey'."

"Oh, and they made a little flower out of the anchovies." Monica allows herself to smile even though she now has two pizzas to pack up and store in the refrigerator before they leave. More chaos to corral.

* * *

The caravan of cars carrying Monica, her family, and her friends, makes its way through the sleepy streets of her town until they finally get to the Main Street strip of stores, offices and apartments. Throughout the entire ride she squeezes Chandler's hand, her nerves causing her grip to tighten the closer they get to her restaurant. Whenever they stop at a red light or a stop sign, he sneaks a glance at her and tries to smile through his pained grimace.

"Am I hurting your hand? No wait. Don't answer that. I need something to squeeze right now."

Chandler struggles to chuckle. "Well, maybe next time you open a restaurant we get you one of those stress balls to squeeze."

"Those don't work for me. I tend to break them."

"That doesn't bode well for my fingers."

She looks over at him and tries to suppress a smile as she shakes her head. She then turns her attention to view outside the passenger window. Marveling at how this is now her new commute to work. No more trains, no more subways, no more traffic on the bridge. Just a leisurely fifteen minute drive from door-to-door.

"Hey, the signs still covered. I thought you said that would be off tonight."

Monica beams as she turns her attention back to her husband. "I wanted to show everyone when we got here."

"So nobody knows what the name is?"

"No, silly. Of course, people know what the name is. But unlike my husband and my friends, the people who do know can keep a secret." She leans over far enough to plant a reassuring kiss on his cheek and looks back out the window as a giggle slips from her lips.

Once they pull up across the street from the restaurant and exit the vehicle, Monica leads him out to the curb of the street excitedly. She holds one of his hands in-between both of hers as she shifts nervously. Chandler smiles and leans down whispering into her hair. "Relax. You've got this."

She smiles up at him and the rest of her friends and family join them across the street from the restaurant. She stands on her tiptoes and silently signals to Geoffrey who gets two of the busboys and leads them outside. He grabs a rope connected to the tarp covering the sign above the door and they help him tug it down.

Chandler smiles, seeing she used his design for the sign, yellow frame around a purple background. The words in a lowercase font simply read "four". He looks down at her and she squeezes his hands again as everyone around them starts to clap, hoot and holler.

"Hey. You used my design."

Monica nods. "Yeah. I thought about all the names and I kept coming back to this one. I hope you didn't have your heart set on the die or…."

He cuts her off by squeezing her hand gently, "No, no. This is great. It looks amazing."

Before they can finish, the crowd of family and friends swarm Monica, everyone wanting to get in a hug and offer her congratulations. She is overcome a few times and allows a tear or two to slip down her face, but Chandler is there quickly with a tissue or even at times he uses the sleeve of his coat. Finally, once it seems as though everyone is satisfied with the amount of time they got with her, Monica claps her hands together a few times to punctuate her words. "Okay people. I have to go to work. Let's eat!" Family chaos averted, order restored.

* * *

With the evening winding down; Monica's parents, along with most of her guests, had already left. They took Ben, Emma, Jack and Erica back to her house. Ross and Rachel were sitting at a table with her father, still picking at some food on a shared plate between them. At Phoebe's insistence earlier in the night, her and Mike had pulled their table up next to Helena and her group, which included four other drag queens, three male dancers and one very tired piano player. A few of Monica's extended family was also still hanging around, and there was even two tables full of actual customers who just happened to be passing by and stopped in when they saw the crowd.

Nora Bing has been nursing a glass of wine for most of the night, sitting in a corner table away from the other patrons. She showed up with a young man, who she didn't even bother to introduce to anyone. And although he is very handsome, the real attraction at her table for Monica are her other two guests. Gavin Regan and Cynthia Maxwell. Two celebrity chefs who own several restaurants in Manhattan between the two of them. Now, not only did Monica feel like she had to dodge any criticism from her family all night, but she also needed to make a good impression on two very influential people in her field. More chaos in need of bending to her will.

As she walks past the rowdy table of drag queens and Phoebe, she looks back at the bartender and signals to him that they are cut off. She then walks over to Chandler who had just left his mother's table. He approaches her and clenches his hands together, fighting the urge to grab at her and pull her into him. "Well, how are you holding up?"

She looks around the room and nods. "Good. I think everything was at about seventy-five percent tonight. A little work and we might be able to get up to ninety-nine by next week."

Chandler lifts his eye brows and shakes his head, but soon his disbelief gives way to an excited grin. "Well, my mother loved it, and so did her guests. They said they actually heard of Javu and loved it there but then the food started to get uneven over the last few months. They raved about tonight though."

Monica's face brightens up at that and instinctively she snakes her arms around his waist. "I think maybe we can do this."

He smiles down at her and is shaken from the moment as he remembers his talk earlier in the day with Ross. "Hey, uh, did Ross talk to you at all tonight?"

"Not really. Why? Is something wrong?" Monica steps back, a confused look on her face.

"Ugh, no. Yes. Maybe. Let me go talk to him." Chandler leaves Monica and sprints over to Ross at his table. Ross looks up and starts to dart his eyes around the room nervously. He slips his hand into his jacket's inside pocket, but before he can take his hand back out, Chandler grabs him by the arm, pinning it to his chest, and pulls him from his chair. Chandler smiles as he looks at Rachel and her father. "Hey, I'm just going to borrow him for a few minutes? Mmkay? Okay, bye."

Rachel and her father look at each other. "Oh, well, you get used to stuff like that dad."

Chandler drags Ross over to the back of the restaurant next to the restrooms. He finally releases him after a lot of posturing and protesting from Ross. Ross looks down at his coat. "Hey! Come on. This is my good suit!"

"What are you doing? You didn't talk to Monica. Are you still going through with this?"

Suddenly the door to the women's bathroom opens up and Phoebe walks out. "Going through with what?"

Chandler turns to face her. "Ross wants to propose to Rachel tonight."

Ross' face turns red as he hits Chandler on the shoulder. "Hey!"

Phoebe smiles and nods at Ross. "Oh yay! How exciting! That should liven this dull party up."

Chandler looks over at her. "Phoebe? You've been hanging out with my father and his friends all night."

"Yeah, and all we can talk about is how boring this party is. Ooo! They could do a number from their show if you want!" She jumps up excitedly and claps her hands together. "Oh, think of it Ross, they do a song and dance and then you propose!"

Chandler runs his hands over his face and lets out a loud, exasperated breath. He looks at Phoebe, "Definitely no songs!" Then he turns to Ross. "And no proposals!"

Phoebe crinkles her brow. "Oh, why not. Ross and Rachel getting engaged at his sister's restaurant. It sounds so magical!"

"Phoebe. Think about how angry Monica will get when the first night her restaurant opens ends up only being remembered for this idiots twelfth proposal."

Ross, looking wounded, can only offer up a half-hearted. "Hey! I've proposed to women way less than twelve times!"

Phoebe turns to Ross. "Oh no. He's right. You can't do it."

A woman's voice from behind them sounds off tersely. "Can't do what?"

Before they can turn around, Phoebe blurts out. "Ross is going to ask Rachel to marry him tonight."

The three of them finally spin around, coming face-to-face with Monica, who Chandler could swear, appears to have steam blowing from her ears. "What!"

Chandler gestures with his hands for her to stay calm. "Now Mon, I told him not to do it." He looks at Ross. "You're not going to do it, right?"

Ross stammers a bit, looking back-and-forth between his three friends and the table where Rachel is sitting. Monica shakes, she can't believe this new chaos that has been unleashed. She shouts loudly at her brother. "Ross!" She then forcefully grabs him by the arm and he yelps in pain.

He tugs on his arm and inspects the sleeve of his suit. "What is it about you guys and putting creases in my jacket!"

Monica huffs and drags him into the office. "We need to talk!" She slams the door shut behind them, releases him and then points an angry finger in his face. "No Ross! No!"

"Why not?"

Monica shakes with rage at how obtuse her brother is being. He is almost more chaos than she can handle. "Ross, why do you two have to constantly try to upstage me. Why can't I ever have one night! You don't see me spilling any news to overshadow tonight like how I think I might be pregnant!"

Ross freezes and his eyes go wide. "What?"

Monica raises her hand to her mouth. Here it is. Chaos now of her own doing. An out of control, raging five alarm fire kind of chaos. She feels like her words are reverberating through the room. She drops her hand and her tone becomes calm and measured. "Nothing. I said nothing."

"Mon, wait, are you pregnant?"

She shakes her head, clearly dismayed at her inadvertent confession, "I don't know! I'm late and…"

"Wait. This is perfect. Now you have something else you can have for yourself. You can announce your pregnancy and have your big moment and you can let me have tonight. I need to do it now. I already found us a bigger apartment. I want us to try for another baby after we get married and we need more room. I can't tell her about the apartment first and then propose after."

Monica shakes her head. "Well, why not do it when you get home."

"Oh yeah, I'll just ask her while she sleepwalks up the stairs after the drive back to the city. Come on Monica. This is the perfect moment to do it. Her dad is here. We can tell mom and dad tonight when we all get back to your house."

"You can't. I have two really famous chefs here and they are probably going to spread the word about this place based on their impression of tonight and that can either make or break my reputation. They are right out there sitting with Chandler's mom. You can't do this and make a big scene."

"Oh, I'm doing it! People will love it!" He storms out of the office and Monica chases after him. Both of them grabbing and pulling at each other to get to Rachel's table first.

"Ross! Stop!"

Chandler and Phoebe turn their heads at the same time, almost unable to keep up with them as they speed into the dining room.

Ross starts to reach his hand into his suit pocket. "Rachel…."

Rachel turns to face Ross as he clears his throat. Before he can pull out the ring box, Monica grabs him from behind and stuffs her hand into his pocket with his, both wrestling with each other's fingers, fighting for a grip on the ring box. Suddenly there is a loud tearing sound as his pocket rips off the inside of his jacket and Monica triumphantly raises the box in her hand.

"Aha!"

Monica!" Ross inspects the tatters of his jacket. "Great! You guys finally ruined my suit!"

Rachel looks up and starts to point at the ring box. "Monica what is that?"

Ross clears his throat again. "Rachel…"

Monica pushes him and cuts him off. "Ugh! Fine. Here." Monica opens the box and hands it to Rachel. "My dumb brother wants to marry you!"

Rachel freezes and she looks down at the ring. Ross shakes a fist in his sister's direction. "Monica!"

Monica narrows her eyes angrily at her brother. "There. Now it can be our moment!"

Rachel grabs at the box. "Is this….is this for real?"

Ross angrily starts to flail his arms around. "Oh yeah, well, Monica knows there are two chefs here that she's trying to impress so they say nice things about her restaurant."

Monica gasps but then doubles down on her anger. Shouting loudly and pointing at him. "Oh yeah? Well Ross already found a new apartment for you guys to live in because he wants to have another baby after you get married!"

Ross pulls his fist to his mouth, chewing at his knuckles in frustration. He drops his hand and yells back at her. "Oh yeah! Well Monica thinks she might be pregnant!"

Phoebe looks over at the drag queens sitting at her table and nods at them with a big smile on her face. "Wow, now this is a party!"

Chandler's eyes go wide and he looks over at his wife. "What? You're what?"

Monica slowly approaches him, reaching her hands out to him. "I know. Look. I'm late and I took two tests this morning and one of them was positive and one was negative, and with everything going on I couldn't find time to buy more tests and I wanted to talk to you about it tomorrow but then Ross…."

Chandler takes her into his arms. "Hey, hey. Shh, shh. It's okay." He then looks around the room, all eyes on them. "We have to get some more tests."

As if choreographed, every drag queen leaps up from their chairs. Helena shouts out to them. "There's a twenty-four-hour drug store two blocks away! Come on ladies! Let's get my daughter-in-law some sticks to pee on!"

Mike looks over at Phoebe and winces. "Well, that won't look good in a review."

* * *

Monica and Chandler are sitting on the floor in the office, leaning against the back wall, holding hands as they wait for the test results. "I'm sorry, I only had enough pee for two more tests. I guess I should have used a cup."

Chandler smirks as he cranes his neck to look at the test sticks laying on the desk. "It's okay. We can do the rest of them tomorrow morning. Can you believe after all of this, Rachel still said yes?"

Monica laughs. "Yeah, and you know what, I don't think anyone is going to remember the proposal. Not when five drag queens came running in yelling about pregnancy tests."

Chandler laughs and looks down at their hands.

Monica looks over at him. "I'm really scared."

He nods. "Me too."

"What if it's positive? I mean, I can't be pregnant. I can't get pregnant. Right? I have a restaurant to run. I won't fit back there in that kitchen with a big belly. Anyway, Dr. Connelly said I can't get pregnant. I'm overreacting. I'm only nine days late."

"Well, he did say it was a long shot." Chandler looks up and smiles. "You know, it is like in Star Wars when Luke blew up the Death Star. He just had this tiny window of opportunity, and he didn't have a targeting system. He just took his shot and blam!"

Monica offers him an admonishing look. "Are you calling my uterus the Death Star?"

"That depends, can we call my penis a lightsaber?"

Monica screws up her face in disgust. "Seriously. I don't know what I am more afraid of. If it is negative then my body is playing a cruel joke on me. If it is positive, then what the hell do we do?"

"Look, whatever it is we can handle it. Okay? We can freak out at first. That's actually my specialty. Then, well, we can handle it. We're still good."

"We are still good." They hold hands tightly as they sit on the floor in silence for a few seconds. She looks up, trying to see the clock. "Is it time?"

Chandler checks his watch. "Yeah. I think so."

He grabs both test strips and hands her one. They hold them down, only looking at each other. Monica allows an uneasy smile to spread across her lips. "Do you want to do it at the same time?"

Chandler offers her back a warm, earnest smile. "Count of three?"

"One…."

They both sound off together. "Two…"

Chandler's eyes go wide and he shakes his head. "Wait!"

Monica looks back at him, confused and worried. "What?"

He leans in and presses a long, sweet kiss on her lips. "For luck."

Monica smiles, then motions with her head at the tests. "Okay?"

"Okay."

They both share one more look, staring into each other's eyes, and together, at the same time, they softly utter. "Three."

**End of Part 1**

* * *

A/N – Sorry this is so long, but there was a lot I wanted to do here, and I couldn't find a good spot to chop it in half and make it a two-parter. If it is too much, let me know and I can always figure out a good place to split it. This is sort of the end of this arc covering Monica's restaurant and Chandler's renewed relationship with his dad. I guess, if this were a show, it would be the season finale.

I'm going to step away from this one for a just little while and let it settle since I feel like I packed a lot into it. I am going to focus a bit more on the season 5/season 6 story I also have going, at least until I get them through Vegas. I also have another chapter or three for the pre-Mondler story.

When those are done, we will come back here and pick up where we left off and everyone can see what happens next. I want to thank everyone again for taking the time to read and also thank everyone who reviews these chapters. They let me know I should keep going. Even if you don't review, I appreciate you coming around, I see you Slovenia and Finland, I know you're there!

I really want to extend a special thanks to Babatomyfriends for some invaluable help in making these chapters a bit cleaner. Sometimes I write late at night, and it shows. It is 2am now, so this one is going to be a doozy!

Also, everyone else who has shared a PM with me or a kind word about what I have been producing, it really means a lot. Thanks.


	18. The Death Star

**Part 2**

**The Death Star**

"Oh my god! Will you look at that hussy next to Jack!"

Chandler glances at Monica with a look of stunned shock on his face as he tries to figure out if he heard his wife correctly. His eyes dart back over to the floor of the gymnasium as he begins to search the room, trying to locate whoever it is that was unlucky enough to earn the ire of Monica Geller-Bing. Yet, all he can see is what looks like a sea of babies and toddlers, playing side-by-side with each other, while attended to by the staff from the Toddler Time Gymboree.

Chandler looks over and finds his son, slithering across the floor, reaching for some blocks, as an older toddler playing next to him takes a block and hands it to Jack. "Are you…are you talking about that baby?"

Monica huffs and folds her arms. "Baby! That's no baby! That is a two-year old making moves on my son. I mean, look at how she is dressed!"

Chandler, feeling as if he is missing something, squints his eyes as he takes a sip of his coffee. Watching Jack toss the block back down, only to have the toddler in question pick it back up and hand it to him again. "Um, well, it looks like she is wearing a romper?"

Monica glares at him, obviously frustrated that he can't see what is so clear to her. "Yeah. A romper. The most seductive of all the onesies." She shoves her purse down on the floor and starts to stand up. "I'm going in there to break this up. My son is too young to be with some girl in a romper."

Chandler can't help but laugh under his breath as he gently grabs her arm, pulling her back down into her seat. "Monica. Please. We have to be at the doctor in two hours. If you get arrested for attacking a two-year old, we will never make it to our appointment on time."

"But…"

"Look, none of the other parents are in there. It's just babies and the staff. Plus, you promised me if I had to go to one of these things that it would definitely not be a mommy-and-me class where I have to do yoga while holding a baby." Monica purses her lips as if she were about to pout. "Look at them. They're having fun. No crying or tantrums. Anyway, aren't you the one who said they needed socialization? That they can't just spend time with us, they have to get used to new faces? That's the whole point of this, right?"

Monica sighs and relents, settling back down into her seat with a huff. "Yes, socialization, not…STDs…"

Chandler swivels his head back-and-forth, as he nervously looks at the other parents sitting close by. He makes eye contact with a few who are looking back at the two of them with bemused expressions after overhearing Monica's outburst. He ducks his head and offers them an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. She hit her head really hard today in the shower. She didn't mean to say 'STDs', she meant to say…ah…nope…I got nothing." He offers one more sheepish grin at the other people around them, but they already seem to have lost interest, back to focusing their attention on their own children. Chandler turns back to face Monica and speaks to her with a hushed yet sharp tone. "Will you shush!"

Monica, keeping her eyes firmly planted on her son, waves her hand as if to dismiss Chandler's concern for discretion. "I'm keeping my eye on her is all I'm saying."

Chandler shakes his head and then he takes another sip from his coffee. He decides that since Monica was going to be watching over her son like a hawk, he would turn his eyes towards his daughter.

He feels lucky that he stumbled onto this place while driving through town a few weeks ago. Most days, it is a gymnastics facility for older kids and teens, but early Saturday and Sunday mornings, a part of it is converted into a toddler activity center. There are tumbling mats of different shapes and sizes spread about for the children to crawl on and they even have a small trampoline for the older toddlers to use, which seems to be a big hit. There are some toys available for the younger infants who are not agile enough to take advantage of the floor obstacles; balls, blocks, stacking cups, and other assorted things they can grab and toss around. The owner told him that most of the staff are volunteers who use this place for gymnastics; many of them middle and high school kids.

Erica has two attendants playing with her, both of them girls, who cannot be much older than sixteen. She is practically beaming with happiness; loving the shower of attention she is garnering for herself. He and Monica discovered a few months ago that his daughter needs to be the star attraction wherever they go. Showing off whenever somebody else was in the room with her. So, her behavior this morning makes perfect sense to him.

He watches as Erica crawls around, picks up a toy, hands it to one of the older girls and then implores the other one to help her up to her feet so she can take a few steps. She then plops back down on her butt and starts to giggle uncontrollably, which seems more about eliciting laughter from the two girls playing with her rather than her actually finding anything funny. Chandler knows this trick too well. Erica would force out a laugh and then wait for someone to laugh back at her. She seems to enjoy having a captive audience to manipulate. He nods to himself as he reiterates to himself that she is going to be a handful.

Chandler smiles as he takes another sip from his coffee, proud that he found a place where they could be with their children, but not have to be right on top of them the entire time that they are playing. Having other babies and toddlers around for them to interact with is just an added bonus. Except for those rare occasions that the twins got to spend time with their cousins, they did not get to play around other children much at all. Monica was starting to worry about that, seeing as how they would both be turning one in about six weeks.

He has to stop his train of thought as he let that information hit him like a ton of bricks. The twins were both going to be one. It drives him crazy when he thinks about. In a little over a month, he and Monica will be the parents of two one-year old children. It feels like just a few weeks ago they had moved into their new home and were lost with these two babies. Struggling to juggle their jobs, housework, unpacking and two demanding little dictators. Well, he was struggling. Monica was doing just fine.

He took another moment to look at her and he could not help but smile. She never ceases to amaze him. All the adversity they have faced seems only to strengthen her resolve. Instead of retreating into her corner, like he would, she is constantly emboldened to take action. New house, two babies, new restaurant, him; she is able to take care of it all so expertly. And, he likes to remind himself, that she looks really good too.

"Did you see that! She just tried to take off his shoe! That trollop is trying to undress my baby boy!"

Chandler leans over and kisses her on the side of her head. "You are amazing. Crazy, but amazing."

* * *

"Dad, are you sure you are okay watching the twins for a little while. We can probably bring them with us."

Helena shakes her head dismissively. She is wearing tight light tan capri pants and a denim colored blouse. Her hair is pulled back and held in place with dark blue and red headband. Chandler has trouble seeing where her hair ends and the wig begins. "Of course, I'm sure. Besides, I have Mitchell here to help. We will divide and conquer these two little muffins." She leans down and starts to tickle at Erica's chin, who looks up at Helena and smiles. Jack, who has already taken off again, slithering across the room, in search of something to pick up and squeeze.

Monica hustles into the living room, pulling her coat on and takes a quick moment to note where her two children are before turning towards her father-in-law. "Thanks Helena. We shouldn't be more than an hour."

"Before you two go, we have a present for you." Helena gets up and pulls out an envelope from her purse and hands it to Chandler.

Chandler looks at Monica and she shrugs her shoulders and nods. Helena marvels at how it seems they had an entire conversation just now without saying a word. Chandler carefully opens the envelope and pulls out two event tickets. "Hey! All right! These are to that new play Wicked!"

Monica rolls her eyes, yet chuckles through her smile. She looks at her husband, allowing herself to enjoy his excitement at something most other men would find emasculating.

Helena, smiles at his reaction, proud that it looks like she got the perfect gift. "Well, we thought, you both have birthday's coming up, and your anniversary is right after that, and then the twin's birthday. It might be a pretty hectic month. Oh! I almost forgot. Here." He hands Monica a second envelope. "We got you two a room for that weekend at The Paramount. I mean, if the doctor tells you what we all know he is going to tell you, you may not get a night alone again for a long time. And we can even babysit if you want!"

Monica and Chandler look at each other and smile. His eyes almost look as if they are pleading with her and she nods again. "Sure. Thanks. I bet it will be a wonderful time." She leans in to give Helena a kiss on the cheek. "That is so thoughtful of you, but you shouldn't have spent so much."

"Oh, it was nothing. The tickets were actually given to me, so no need to worry. I just know how much Chandler liked the Wizard of Oz when he was a child."

Monica glance at him and laughs as he adopts a defensive expression. "No, I did not. I liked football when I was a kid."

Monica runs her hand up and down his arm as if to soothe him. "Chandler, you have a signed picture from the 1980 Broadway cast of Annie."

Chandler, avoiding eye contact, shakes his head self-consciously. "Uh, that isn't mine. I found it in the apartment when I moved in." He finally looks over at Monica and she closes her eyes and shakes her head as she tries to stifle a laugh. "Okay, we have to get going. Dad. You sure you will be okay? We can always take them with us."

"Enough worrying. Who do you think raised you?"

Chandler, a nonplussed look on his face, tilts his head to the side. "Lupita, my nanny."

"Who do you think hired her?"

"Mom."

"Well, who do you think went along with that decision to hire her without a fight?"

Chandler shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "It's these kind of cherished memories that made me want to have children of my own."

* * *

Chandler turns into the parking lot for the office complex and pulls the car into a spot. Once he shuts off the ignition, Monica puts her hand on his thigh and squeezes. "What the hell do we do?"

"Well, I'd say we get out of the car, walk into the office, and let them know we're here." Monica gives him a bit of a stronger squeeze in response to his sarcasm. "Ow!"

"What if I'm really pregnant?"

Chandler turns and starts to rub her back. "Honey, we took ten tests in the last four days. I'm pretty sure you're pregnant."

"I know, but this will make it official. This makes it real. Why are you so calm?"

"I tend to freak out in the beginning of stressful situations. I had four days to panic, I should be good until the next unexpected, life-altering event."

Monica can't help but allow a slow smile to form on her lips. "I can't stop wondering; with the restaurant and the twins, what if we can't handle it?"

Chandler looks off, out the driver's side window and then turns back to face her. "Well, let's not think about that right now."

"Really?" Monica looks at him with a mix of disbelief and confusion on her face.

Chandler nods. "Yeah. Let's try to stay positive. We should avoid thinking about anything that will stress us out. How about we talk about all the good things that could come from having a baby."

Monica, convinced that this is the right course of action, starts to nod. "Okay." She smiles, now becoming more excited. "That could be fun."

Chandler smiles back, pleased that he seems to have calmed his wife down with this distraction. "Yeah. I have one already. We have an extra room in the house that we have no idea what to do with. Now it can be a nursery."

Monica nods and her smile starts to become wider. "Yeah. Hey! With the three of them so close in age, they might play with each other more. You know, be each other's best friend."

"I have another one. During the pregnancy, your boobs will get bigger." Chandler jumps a bit in his seat with excitement.

Monica frowns at him and offers him a sympathetic look. "They'll be sore too. You won't be able to touch them. Not with how you normally maul them during sex anyway."

Chandler looks up and dances a few of his fingers on his chin. "Oh yeah. Okay, that goes in the negative column." He then turns to her and runs the back of his hand against her cheek. "How have you been feeling?"

"Not bad. I haven't gotten sick at all. I do feel nauseas almost every night right around seven, but so far, no vomiting."

Chandler makes a face, mocking disgust. "Can we talk about your big boobs that I won't be able to touch again rather than you possibly vomiting?"

Monica gives him a few firm pats on his leg. "You asked big fella."

"Hey! I have another one. Having another baby so close in age to Jack and Erica means we don't have to pack up and label all of the clothes they grow out of."

Monica twists up her face at him. "Are you serious? That goes in the negative column. Do you know how much fun I was going to have doing that?"

* * *

Monica looks around the office as she sits down to wait for Doctor Lopresti. The first thing she notices is the collage of baby pictures on the far wall and a few thank you cards that are spread out across his desk. She studies the faces of some of the babies, each one more perfect than the last. All that beautiful, miraculous life starting right here in this office. Her eyes then go to the box of tissues that seem to be pushed towards the end of the desk closest to her. She wonders how many hopeful mothers needed those during appointments where the only answers they received were bad news. Like her, almost three years ago. How many of them gave up hope, like she did on herself in those first few months? How many tissues did she go through?

She turns to look at her husband, who seems so nervous, he might bite off all of his fingernails as he chews on them. She reaches over and runs her hand lightly down his arm. "Ugh, everyone we know, already knows I'm pregnant."

Chandler places his hand over hers. "They may not know for sure. They just know you think you're pregnant."

Before Monica can answer, the door to the office opens and Doctor Lopresti walks in. "Hello, sorry to keep you waiting. So, how many tests did you guys take?"

Monica stiffens up a bit and Chandler pats her on the hand. "Uh, twelve. The second one I took came out negative, but the other ten were all positive."

"Okay, well, I guess that means you have a pretty good idea that you guys are pregnant."

Chandler nods and smiles but Monica offers the doctor back a sharp, "No."

Doctor Lopresti responds with a reassuring smile and nods. "Okay. Well, I have all of your paperwork from Doctor Connelly. Normally we would wait a couple of more weeks to do an ultrasound, but with your medical history I think we should do a transvaginal ultrasound today. So, you'll step outside and the nurse will collect some blood and then we will see what we can find. You think you have a full bladder? After the exam we will probably take a urine sample too."

Chandler nods. "Don't worry Doc, I haven't peed since last night."

The doctor screws up his face in confusion at Chandler. "Uh, Mr. Bing? You can urinate whenever you want. Unless you think you're also carrying a baby."

Monica shakes her head. "Blood, urine, something shoved in my vagina. Sounds like a great time."

Chandler tugs at his collar. "Woah. I am really glad I am not a woman. Do you think I can go to the bathroom first?"

* * *

Monica slips out of her pants and underwear and sits up on the examination table, pulling the thin sheet of a gown over her lap. Chandler looks around the room nervously and reaches out to touch some of the equipment in the room. "Chandler! Don't touch anything!"

Doctor Lopresti joins them in the room and smiles as he looks down at the clipboard. "Your blood test came back and congratulations, you're pregnant. With the information you gave me I would say you are just over seven weeks. I still want to do the ultrasound though, just to make sure everything looks okay."

Monica gasps and reaches out for Chandler's hand. He quickly scurries over to her and she proceeds to squeeze his hand so tightly, he is certain his fingers are going to fall off. She looks back at Doctor Lopresti and stammers for a few seconds. "I, uh, I don't understand. How could this have even happened?"

The doctor snaps on a pair of gloves and starts to prepare the ultrasound wand for his examination. "Well, cervical mucus is normally acidic and hostile up until just before ovulation. Unfortunately, you have an even smaller window where you can get pregnant and with a partner who has low sperm motility, the chances are even smaller. But, your husband has been taking his supplements, so that may have helped."

Chandler, confused, turns to look at Monica. "I have?"

Monica looks back at him and nods. "Oh yeah, I've been putting them in your food so you don't see them."

Chandler turns back towards the doctor. "Apparently, I take pills like a puppy would."

The doctor applies some lubricant to the transducer. "Well, like I said, it might have helped. This is basically your one in a million-chance cashing in."

Chandler smiles excitedly and taps Monica on her shoulder. "See! Like the Death Star, right?"

Monica rolls her eyes. "Ugh. Please ignore my husband."

The doctor brings his stool closer to Monica and looks up at Chandler. "Yes! Exactly like the Death Star. When Luke blew it up!" The two of them nod at each other, giddy smiles on their faces.

Monica sighs and shakes her head. "Is it too late to get a different doctor?"

Doctor Lopresti nods apologetically and positions himself to perform the ultrasound. "Okay, this might be a little uncomfortable. Please tell me if it starts to hurt and I'll stop."

Monica and Chandler begin to squeeze their hands tightly together as they watch the images on the monitor in front of them. Amorphous blobs dancing across the screen in confusing black and white. "Okay, here is the uterus, and the sac, the fluid looks good. And right there, that little guy. That's your baby."

Monica clasps her hand to her mouth. Her eyes wide with shock as they begin to moisten at the edges with tears. The only thing breaking her from falling apart into a heap of happy tears is the sight of her awestruck husband. Chandler looks at the screen again and then back to Monica. "This is real. You were right. This is so real now. I mean, I have no idea what I am looking at, but I know it is real." Monica finally has a few tears run down her face as she presses her lips against his hand.

Doctor Lopresti reaches over and turns a dial with his free hand. "It's real guys, and here is your baby saying hello."

The room is filled with a rapid, thumping, tinny, echo. Monica tries to speak, but her voice gets caught in her throat as her breath hitches. The doctor looks back at her and smiles. "That's your baby's heartbeat."

She starts to sniffle and Chandler reaches over, cradling her in his arms as he places a kiss on her head. She buries her face in his neck and she starts to shake as she cries into him. He places one more kiss on the top of her head. "I just thought of one more good thing about having a baby."

Monica chokes back and clears her throat as she looks up at him, finally finding her voice again. "Me too."

* * *

A/N - We're back. I wanted to finish "TOW The Butterfly Effect" before I came back to this story, and since I finished that one quickly, I was able to sketch out some ideas for Part 2 of this story. Thanks for waiting for an update and thanks for reading.


	19. Opportunity's Knocked Up

**Opportunity's Knocked Up**

"I don't know why you aren't panicking. If it was me, I'd probably be panicking."

Chandler looked over at Ross and scoffed. The two men were seated on opposite ends of the orange couch that they were accustomed to having available to them whenever there were at Central Perk. Chandler had made it a habit to meet Ross for an afternoon cup of coffee whenever he was in the city for work. It gave them a sense of familiarity and distracted them both from the fact that is has been almost a year since the entire group were able to sit together, at the same time, in this very same coffee house that, for so many years, was like a second home to them.

It became even more rare to see any of them at Central Perk, now that Chandler was the only one between Monica and himself that still worked in Manhattan. He has become the only representative from their little family on days like this. Monica used to have an early cup of coffee with Rachel before some of her shifts while she was still working at Javu, but ever since she had opened up her own restaurant, which was nestled in their little Westchester town, she had not stepped foot in the city. Her and Rachel now relegated to a few phone calls a week and promises of getting together at some point in the near future.

Chandler looked down at his coffee. "Well, dairy does tend to give me gas, but it's nothing I'm panicky about."

Ross huffed and rolled his eyes. "No. About the baby!"

"Oh. That. Actually, I feel pretty good about it. The twins will be closer to two when the baby is born, so they should be pretty self-sufficient by then."

Ross started to choke on his own tongue as he flailed his arms around incredulously. "What? Do you have any idea how much worse it is going to get? You guys are still in the good part right now, but once they start walking, it is a whole new ballgame."

"Really? I figured that once they started walking it meant they could get their own drinks and stuff."

Ross began to convulse wildly, his eyes widened in disbelief. "What! Are you insane? They're going to get into everything, and it won't be like it is now, where you can pick them up and strap them into something. Once they learn how to walk, they just want to move all the time. You just walk around behind them; it is like some crazy sleep deprived parade. And there is always something you forgot. A chair that they walk into, a door left open, the toilet seat up, your favorite novelty sabretooth tiger fang broken in half and stuffed under the couch."

"That last one sounded kind of specific to you."

"And then they don't sleep as much, and they learn one word and say it over and over and over. They eat more, and they make messes and then there is the size of the poop. I swear to you man, you've never seen anything like it."

Chandler smirked into his coffee cup and the sarcastically mocked a stunned expression. "Babies poop? Okay, now you're scaring me."

Ross ignored Chandler's sarcastic tone and continued. "And then, before you know it, they're two. Do you know what kind of a jerk a two-year-old can be?"

"You know what? Now that you mention it, I distinctly remember when Ben was two and he stole my wallet."

Ross shook his head and settled back into his chair. "Okay funny guy. Laugh it up now, but by this time next year, you'll be all, 'Oh, Ross, you were so right' and 'Ross, I'm so sorry' and 'Ross, I was wrong to call your book boring'." Ross picked up his paper and began to sulk for a bit as he shook his head.

Chandler reached over, smugly chuckling to himself, and took up his mug of coffee for a sip. "You know, I actually think Monica is more worried than I am."

"Really? Monica?"

"I know. I guess maybe with the restaurant, the twins, and how tired she has been lately."

Ross nodded. "Yeah, those first few months really knock them out. I remember how Rachel was with Emma. Any time she was sitting still, she fell asleep." He put his paper down and leaned forward again, trying to speak discretely. "Well, is, uh, you know, is everything else okay? Medically?"

Chandler nodded reassuringly. "Yeah. Monica's new doctor got all of that stuff from the place we used to go to here, and he seems to think all our issues were with conception. He didn't see anything in our paperwork that's a cause for concern, but, that's probably worrying her too."

"Wow. A worried Monica? What are you going to do?"

"Well, I'm trying to do as much as I can to lighten the load for her. I'm trying to convince her to let us hire some help for around the house."

Ross screwed up his face. "Like, to clean?"

Chandler nodded. "Yeah, maybe, or a nanny."

"You know Monica will see that as a betrayal. You will never live it down."

"I know. It didn't work out so well the last time I tried to hire a house cleaner, but I think we need more professional help than my dad or your mom. I mean, look how we all turned out. Jack and Erica should at least get a fighting chance at being fully functioning members of society."

Ross glared at Chandler, and insulted expression washed over his face. "I'm a functioning member of society!"

"Ross, you are about to enter your fourth marriage."

* * *

Chandler sat at his desk and was having a hard time concentrating on the materials he was given this morning to go over prior to the staff meeting that he was going to a few hours. Despite his jocular attitude earlier today with Ross, he was worried. He felt that he and Monica could barely keep up with the demands of the twins, and now they were adding a third child to the mix. How were they going to handle that?

It had only been a week since the doctor gave them the official, no doubt about it, you are one-hundred percent pregnant diagnosis. It was not real to him until that moment. Three kids. A house to maintain. Operating a small business that he had already projected to lose eight-hundred dollars this month. The sheer amount of stress that they will endure over the next nine months was daunting to consider. The Chandler Bing of only a year ago would have been driven mad with panic and doubt. But the Chandler Bing of today has a secret weapon that is more powerful than panic and doubt.

His phone began to ring which knocked him out of his reverie and back into the real world. He shook his head and picked up the receiver.

"Chandler Bing."

"Hey, Chandler. Can I see you in my office?"

"Sure. I'll be right there."

Chandler hung up, grabbed the paperwork for today's meeting, assuming his boss want them to discuss something about it in greater detail, and made his way from his cubicle to Steve's office down the hall. Chandler knocked lightly on the open door and his boss looked up, signaling for him to come in.

"I hope this isn't where you tell me bad news."

Steve smiled and motioned for him to sit down. "No. As a matter of fact. The opposite. We have this new client that we just signed, and it is really important we get this first proposal right. it could open up a few new areas to our firm and they have a really large catalog of products. If we want exclusivity with their entire portfolio, we really need to knock their socks off with this first one. We will be meeting with the art director in about two weeks and I wanted to give you the first crack at it. You've been doing a great job and I think you could do well with this product."

Chandler allowed a half-smile to cross his lips as he began to feel a swell of pride. "Wow. Thank you, sir."

"Also, we will be looking to add two new senior copywriters this fall from our internal staff and I think you could really help yourself in getting one of those spots by tackling this. Now, it might mean you have to come into the office a few more days than you have been over the last year. Maybe put in a few extra hours, but I really think you can handle this. Whoever takes the lead on this one in our group will probably get an early inside track on that promotion."

Chandler allowed his fingers to dance along his chin for a moment. "Wow, Thanks for thinking of me sir. I uh, you know. I just have to discuss this with my wife. The extra hours. Well, see, she has this schedule and pretty much every minute is accounted for. If she knew we were having this meeting right now, without it already being pre-authorized, well, she would probably kill me."

Steve shook his head, "That's fine, but I need to know soon. We can't hold off on this. Can you get back to me first thing tomorrow morning?"

"Of course. And thanks again. I really appreciate you thinking of me for this."

"You've earned it."

* * *

Chandler fidgeted in his seat on the train, unable to sit still. He was bubbling over with excitement that he had been carrying around with him ever since his meeting with Steve. He could not wait to get home to tell Monica about his day at work. He knew she would be excited as well, after all, she was the main reason that he was working at the ad agency in the first place. Without her encouragement and patience while he was unemployed, he probably would have gotten his old job back, re-configuring data and analyzing statistics. Ever since he first got the internship, she has been heavily invested in his progress at work, and he enjoyed how proud she would be of him whenever he had good news.

He looked at his watch and shook his head at the idea that he still had almost an hour to go before he got home. He knew he could not wait another hour. He slipped his phone from his jacket pocket and began to flip it open and closed and he thought about what he wanted to do. He hated the idea of not seeing her face when he told her about the chance to move up again so quickly at his firm. He finally nodded to himself, pressed down a few numbers on the keypad, and put the receiver up to his ear. It rang for several seconds until he heard his wife's voice on the answering machine's outgoing message. He closed the phone again and sighed as he decided not to leave a voicemail.

He looked at the phone one more time, opened it, and dialed again, listening to it ring as he waited for someone to pick it up. "Hey, Ross. How's it going. I know. I just got this great news at work and I had to tell somebody."

* * *

Chandler walked into his home and found it enveloped in an almost eerie sort of quiet. He placed his coat on the back of the chair in the den and started to look around the house. Finding that there was no one downstairs he made his way up to the second floor and slowly opened the door to his bedroom.

"Mon?"

A groggy voice called back to him. "Hmm. Oh. Hey sweetie. I am so glad you're home. I've been terrible today. I just have no energy and I've been so nauseous. I brought the twins up for a bath but I just needed to lie down for a minute. They're playing in their cribs right now."

Chandler came over and sat on the edge of the bed, and when Monica moved to sit up, he put his hand gently on her shoulder, insisting she lie back down. She smiled and rolled over on her side as she closed her eyes. Chandler placed a kiss on the top of her head, to which she hummed in response. "Oh, I'm sorry you don't feel good. Did you go to work?"

"Just for a little bit, but I couldn't be in the kitchen. I had to have Javier take over and run it and I spent most of the day hiding in the office. How am I going to cook if I can't be in the kitchen?"

Chandler gently ran his hand up and down her waist and placed one more kiss on her worried brow. "Well, maybe let someone else handle that for now. Can Javier run the kitchen for a few weeks until this passes?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I don't even have the energy to get up. Could you give the twins their bath? They should still be up. I put them in their cribs with some toys about twenty minutes ago."

Chandler nodded and gave her one last kiss, he worried about her; ever since she became pregnant, she had made a habit of repeating herself when talking to him. Almost like she was running on such a low battery that she was starting to have problems even keeping her thoughts in order. "Sure. Did you eat anything?"

"No. I've been so busy with these two. I don't even know what I can eat without it making me feel like I am going to throw up."

Chandler stood up and started to remove his tie and roll up his sleeves. "How about you get a nap in. I'll get Jack and Erica ready for bed and later you come down and I'll make something like pancakes and we will see how those go down."

Monica mumbled a few words, already falling back asleep and Chandler quietly slipped from the room.

* * *

A few hours later he returned to the bedroom with a folding tray that had some food and a glass of water on it. He placed it on the edge of the bedside table and began to shake her gently. Her eyes fluttered open and she yawned as she stretched. "Oh, what time is it?"

"Eight-thirty. Why don't you sit up and have some of this." He reached over and grabbed the tray, propping it up in front of her once she straightened up. She looked down at the food he prepared, a few pancakes, some sliced banana and a couple of pieces of lightly buttered toast. She picked up a piece of toast and began to chew it down slowly. "Thanks. I'm so sorry I left you alone with those two. Did they go down easy?"

"Jack did. Erica needed a little persuading though. Here, I brought your vitamins and a glass of water up too. Why don't you just stay in bed and after you're done eating, I'll bring you some of that decaf tea you bought and I'll grab your book. We can just hang out in here tonight and take it easy. Sound good?"

Monica, still munching away on her toast, nodded and smiled. "I'd kiss you if I wasn't so hungry right now."

"It's not the first time a woman chose food over me."

Monica weakly smiled up at her husband and finished swallowing another piece of toast. "How do you do it? How are you so calm?"

"Well, I kind of have a secret weapon."

"What is it?"

Chandler looked down and flashed an almost embarrassed smile. 'Well, when I start to think about all the crazy stuff going on, or start to worry about how we are going to handle this and if we are doing the right thing. I close my eyes and I put myself back in the doctor's office, you know, when we heard the heartbeat. It kind of soothes me." He placed his hand on her stomach just above her waist and smiled again. "It makes me feel good. To know what it sounds like. I can hear it so clearly. It's the best sound I ever heard."

Monica's face melted into a sweet smile as her eyes watered a bit around the edges. She grabbed at his hand and placed a small kiss on his knuckles. "I'm really lucky to have you. You know that? I don't know what I would do if you weren't here." Chandler could only offer back a bashful smile in response.

* * *

Chandler kicked his feet up onto the coffee table in front of him while he waited for Ross to meet him at Central Perk for a quick cup of coffee. He only had about an hour for lunch, but he figured it was enough time for a quick chat and a drink. He heard the door to the shop open and turned his head to see Ross greet him with a nod as he entered.

Ross walked over and dropped his coat on the chair. "Hey, two days in a row. It's almost like you never left." Chandler chuckled and nodded. "So, how did everything go with the whole new job opportunity thing you were telling me about yesterday?"

"Oh that? Yeah, that fell through."

"Oh? How come? I thought this was a done deal for you. You seemed pretty excited."

"Uh…well, the client wanted to go in a different direction I guess. It's fine though. I think Monica really needs me to be around more so it all worked out in the end."


	20. Monica's Perfect Day

**Monica's Perfect Day**

Monica's eyes fluttered and her day began. She heard the unmistakable, familiar sound of her children's faint giggles coming from downstairs. It was not loud enough to have been what woke her, but from the moment she opened her eyes, she could hear those two tiny happy voices, and it filled her heart with a warm comfort that eased her mind and made her smile. She slid out of bed and glanced at the clock, noting by what time it was, that Chandler must have let her sleep in. For once, she was not complaining about waking up late. Thanks to the pregnancy, she needed all the extra sleep she could get. She had read in one of her pregnancy books about how tired she might get during the first trimester, but nothing prepared her for how weak she has been feeling these last few days. She walked over to the bedroom door, slipped on her robe and padded her way through the hallway and down the stairs in search of the source of the joyful noise she was hearing.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she could hear her husband slowly count out, "One…two…three!" then there was a snap of metal and wood which was followed by two little babies giggling and then her husband's familiar chuckle. Like a chorus of joy. "Want to go again?"

She smiled as she turned the corner to enter the den. Chandler had both Erica and Jack on his lap and he set the easy chair back into an upright position. "You know, I was always the fastest draw in the the Tri-State are with one of these things. Your uncle Joe would always try to beat me, but I was too quick for him." She leaned up against the frame of the entryway and watched as he slowly slid his hand down to grasp the release bar on the side of the chair. "Okay, hold on. One…two…three!" In one motion, Chandler wrapped one arm around his two children as he pulled the lever, letting the chair slide back quickly into a reclining position. Jack and Erica would bounce up and down on his lap as they laughed at the motion of the chair, which had Chandler snickering after them at their reaction. He turned his head to look at Monica and smiled. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Much better. I feel very well rested. Did you guys eat?"

"Well, these two did." Chandler began to tickle his two children, causing them to double over as they laughed.

Monica's face lit up as she watched. "Do you want me to make something for you?"

"Are you up for it?"

Monica twisted up her face into a crooked frown. "Well, it's probably just going to be a toasted bagel or something like that."

Chandler nodded, not taking his attention away from his children as he continued to tickle at their bellies. "Sounds good to me. I'm in."

Erica turned her attention towards Monica and began to reach her arms out to her. Monica smiled down at her daughter and walked closer to the three of them. "What is it? Do you want to come with mama into the kitchen?"

"Mama."

Monica stopped in her tracks and pulled her hand to her chest as her eyes went wide at the sound of Erica's tiny voice. "Woah! What?" She darted her eyes from her daughter to her husband, as if trying to get some form of confirmation that what she heard actually just happened.

Erica's forehead wrinkled up as if she were figuring out some secret of the universe. She pushed a bit with her lips, causing some air to ripple through her closed mouth, until she was able to find the right combination of sound and mouth movement again. "Mammmmma"

Chandler smiled and looked down at his daughter. "That's right Erica. That's Mama."

Again, Erica tried to mouth out the word as expertly as she could. "Mmmmama."

Monica tried to hold back her excitement and stood next to the chair, looking down at Erica. "Well, maybe she doesn't know it is me and she is just copying what you and I said."

Chandler pursed his lips and turned Erica to face Monica. He pointed to his wife to get his daughter to look up. "Erica. Who is that?"

"Mama."

Monica snatched Erica from his lap faster than he could react and hugged her daughter close to her. She placed kisses all around the top of her head. "That's right sweetie. I'm mama."

Chandler smiled and stood up, placing Jack on the floor, who immediately began to slither over to the corner of the room where his toys were stored. "Well, looks like I'm making those bagels."

* * *

Monica walked down the stairs after successfully putting the twins down for their afternoon nap. She looked over at the clock to note the time. Chandler had to go into the city for work after breakfast, but was coming home early enough so she could get to the restaurant in time for the dinner shift. It was still several hours until then, and she was glad that Rachel and Emma came by to help pass the time. "Well, we probably only have about forty minutes. They don't stay down as long as they used to anymore."

Rachel looked over at Emma who was sitting on the floor in the living room, coloring in a book with some crayons. "I know. Wait until they get to be Emma's age. All you do is fight about sleeping. Either she doesn't want to go to bed or she wakes up too early, or if we have to be somewhere that morning, she doesn't get out of bed." Rachel shook her head. "Watch. Hey, Emma. Want to try and take a nap?"

"I don't like sleeping."

"But you have to go to sleep tonight, right?"

"We'll see."

Monica laughed and turned to Rachel. "We'll see?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I must have said it to her or something like that because that's her answer to everything now." She clapped her hands together and leaned down to pick up an overstuffed tote bag. "Anyway, now we can get onto the real reason I came over." She turned the bag upside down, emptying the contents onto the couch. Magazine clippings and photos began to pile up between the two women. "Monica. You have to help me!"

Monica's eyes went wide as her mouth dropped open. She picked up a random clipping that had a picture of a three-tiered cake. "Are these all for your wedding?"

Rachel began to breath in sharply as she started to sound panicked. "Yes. I have too many choices. I need you to help me narrow them down."

Monica furrowed her brow as she kept picking up clippings and examined them. "I thought Phoebe was your maid of honor? Where is she?"

Rachel shook her head. "Look Mon, I love her. We all do. But you and I know that Phoebe cannot be trusted to pick this stuff out. She'll make the groomsmen wear spacesuits and the flowers in my bouquet will get a funeral." Monica exhaled a laugh. Rachel grabbed her by the arm and began pleading with her. "C'mon! You know you're the best at this."

Monica paused her own movements and a half smile began to form on her lips. "I'm sorry. I am going to need you to say that again."

Rachel rolled eyes and huffed impatiently. "You're the best at this."

Monica's smile became wide and she beamed at Rachel's proclamation. "I know!" She started to move the clippings around on the couch into piles. "Okay! Let's get started! First off, a tote bag full of papers with no labels or sense of order? Are you planning a wedding or a frat party?"

Rachel shrugged her shoulder. "I know! Please help me make sense of all this. It is everything I have seen in a magazine over the last ten years that I actually liked. Now, I don't know where anything is or where to start."

Monica put her hands out and began to gesture emphatically at the paper clippings strewn about the couch. She reached over and dragged to coffee table closer to them. "Okay, well, we should start by separating everything into groups. The hall, the food, the dress, the bridesmaid dresses…"

Rachel stood up and wiped her pants off. "Hey, you know, I will probably just be in your way here. How about if I make some coffee while you do this?"

Monica does not look up at Rachel to respond, still lost in her thoughts. "You know, you're right. I think we might need folders and a binder and maybe even five different colored pens for this."

* * *

Monica walked into the restaurant and smiled as she witnesses quite an unusual sight; several tables were full of customers. A rare occurrence this late in the afternoon. She felt a slight rush of excitement as she walked through the dining room. The restaurant had been so slow in the hours between lunch and dinner that she had begun to worry if they would ever get a happy hour crowd; which was crucial to their success. She thought to herself that maybe this was a sign that things might be turning around.

She greeted a few of the employees in the lobby and then stuck her head in the kitchen to say hello to the staff as they were already preparing for this evening. She took a quick scan and saw that everything looked to be in order; although, she did think the towels they were using to wipe down the prep tables should be replaced soon with cleaner ones. She shrugged her shoulders, deciding she could address that after she had a quick meeting with her restaurant manager.

She walked into the office to find Geoffrey going through some receipts and he looked up and smiled to greet her. Monica took off her jacket and hung it up on the coat rack as she instinctively grabbed the inventory ledger and started to look through it. "Hey, so, did we actually have a lunch crowd today?"

Geoffrey smiled and nodded enthusiastically. "It was a good lunch! We had a great crowd almost all day. Javier ran the kitchen beautifully; you would have been proud. And, to top it all off, we are already above our projections for the entire day by seventy-five dollars."

Monica nodded, clearly impressed by the news. "Wow. We're in the black!"

Geoffrey frowned a bit and returned his attention to the receipts on the desk. "Well, we are still down twelve-hundred for the month."

"Ugh. Don't you know not to give a pregnant woman bad news? I was thinking I might work the kitchen for tonight. I might leave after dinner though; probably around nine."

"Okay. Are you sure you are up for it?"

Monica smiled and grabbed her chef's coat from the rack. "Yeah. I'll be honest, today was the first time in a couple of weeks that I have felt really good. No nausea or exhaustion; I feel focused and energized. I want to take advantage of that."

"Wow! That's great! Well, then what are we in for tonight chef?"

"I thought I would try some skewers tonight. We should still have some of those hanger steaks left, right? I was thinking marinated beef and chicken. I made this chimichurri sauce last night while I was here that I think would be perfect."

"Okay. I'll put them on the board."

"Also, I was thinking about deep fried Oreo cookies with ice cream as a special dessert. We still have some of that batter left, right?" Geoffrey nodded in response. "Good. Do not let Chandler find out about this. They were his idea. He had them at some chain restaurant in the city and if he knew I was using one of his suggestions here he would be impossible to live with. I'm sure though we can do them much better with the right kind of batter and maybe some powdered sugar, or a drizzle of chocolate sauce on the side." Geoffrey tapped his finger on the tip of his nose, gesturing that he understood what she was saying.

Monica left the office and made her way into the kitchen. She looked around at everything, taking a quick inventory but finding that nothing seemed to be out of place. She turned her head to some of their sauces that were already prepped and ready for use. She smiled proudly and spun around to address the kitchen staff. "Javier! Did you turn all these around so the labels were facing out? I love that!"

* * *

Monica checked the clock as she entered her home. Half past nine. She crept through the hallway and turned towards the den to find Chandler sleeping in his recliner. She smiled at him and quietly took off her shoes and coat, placing them in the closet.

She decided to slowly climb the stairs and poke her head in the twins' bedroom to check on them. The door creaked as it opened and she winced and closed her eyes a bit, worried the sound might wake her children. She peeked through one squinted eye and stared in silence at the two cribs, but saw no movement. Deciding it was safe to enter; she lightly padded her way into the room and settled herself on one of the rocking chairs, scooting it forward so she could watch her children sleep.

She noticed that it looked like Jack was wearing one of Erica's pajama sets and that Erica's own outfit did not match. _"He is never going to get that right. He's going to send Jack to school one day in a dress. How many times do I have to show him my system?" _Just as she was about to lift herself up from the chair, she noticed Erica's eyes flutter open and her heart stopped, almost in fear that her daughter was going to wake up, fully energized and ready to play.

Monica leaned over the edge of Erica's crib and began to whisper. "Shh baby. Go back to sleep. Mama didn't mean to wake you."

Erica stretched her little arms and rolled over. "Mama." Fell from her lips as she closed her eyes and fell back to sleep.

Monica's legs felt like cement. Hearing her daughter squeak out a quiet "mama", further signaling that her first word was no accident. It almost made her weak in the knees and fall to the floor. She wiped a tear from under her eye and crept back out of the room.

She thought of going downstairs to wake Chandler, but decided to go and wash her face and fix her hair first. She went into the bathroom and turned on the light, stopping in her tracks as she looked around the small washroom. There were clean towels on the rack, the mirror and faucet were shining and free of smudges. The room smelled of cleaning products and lilacs. She could only smile as she surmised the cause for the immaculate state of her bathroom. "Oh my god. Chandler cleaned the bathroom."

* * *

Monica leaned over her slumbering husband and place a soft kiss on his forehead. "Hey."

His eyes opened slowly as a smile spread across his lips. "Hey. I missed you today."

"Me too. How was your day?"

"Terrible. You?"

"Amazing." Chandler slumped a bit in his chair and Monica ran her finger along his shoulder. "Don't pout. I have a feeling your day may end with a bang. Want to meet me upstairs in five minutes?"

Chandler quickly sat up straight as he flashed her a salacious smile. "Really? You sure you're up for this?"

Monica nodded her head slowly and slipped her robe open a little, revealing a thin, sheer, black nightie underneath. "Just a little preview."

Chandler jumped from his seat and she placed her hand on his chest. "Just give me five minutes." He nodded impatiently as he watched her leave and heard her footsteps on the stairs as she made her way up to the second floor.

* * *

The bedroom door swung open and Monica smiled as she saw the hungry and excited look on her husbands face as he entered the room. He started to roughly work the buttons of his shirt as he tried to get undressed as quickly as possible. Her chest swelled with pride at how she could still get this kind of reaction from him. She had lit a few candles, letting their soft, flickering glow act as the only light in the room. She pulled back the covers and spread herself across the bed seductively, allowing her nightie to slowly slide above her thighs.

Chandler almost lost his breath as he lunged for the bed, but then stopped himself. "Wait! Let me brush my teeth!" Monica giggled to herself and watched as he bounded out of the room.

* * *

Monica stirred from her sleep and felt sluggish and disoriented. She looked around the room and tried to let everything come into focus. The last thing she could remember was Chandler leaving to brush his teeth. She lifted the covers and found herself still wearing the nightie and a pair of sweatpants. She screwed up her face, rolled over, and started to shake her husband.

"Chandler. Psst. Hey, wake up."

He rolled over to face her and began to rub his eyes. "Why do people whisper when they are trying to wake somebody up? It doesn't make it any more pleasant."

"What happened?"

"When I got back from the bathroom you were out cold."

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I tried. If I didn't see you breathing, I would have sworn you were dead. I wasn't exactly gentle when I put those sweatpants on you." Monica looked down at herself again and huffed out a chuckle. "Don't worry about it. You had a long day."

Chandler went to roll over again, but was stopped in his motions when Monica placed her hand on his shoulder. She reached down and began to yank her pants off. "Don't fall asleep on me now mister. You and I are going to wake up and do this right!"


	21. Chandler's Imperfect Day

**Chandler's Imperfect Day**

Chandler stirred as he heard some light gurgling and tiny voices trilling through the baby monitor on the bedside table. He rubbed his eyes and turned to look at the clock. It was five-thirty; roughly an hour earlier than he would normally hear the twins as they woke up. Yet, there they were, making all their familiar morning noises. Jack was gurgling along as Erica worked out some sounds, which had become a daily ritual for her. He looked over at his wife and saw that she was still sound asleep; undisturbed by their children's auditory chorus. Monica was lying face down and snoring erratically. There was a wet spot near her mouth on the pillowcase, no doubt caused by her drooling all night, and her hair was a tangled, matted mess. Still, to Chandler, she looked as beautiful as ever. He propped up his head, tapping his fingers on his chin, as he watched her sleep for a few moments. He still doesn't know how he got so lucky making this woman fall in love with him.

He smiled at her once more, leaned over, kissed her on the shoulder, and then slowly slid out of bed. He took care not to drag the covers with him or shake the mattress too much so as not to disturb her. These last few weeks have taken a physical toll on Monica, and he knew she needed the sleep. He gingerly tiptoed around the bed to turn the monitor off and crept out of the bedroom, making his way to the twins' nursery.

When he entered the room, Jack was already holding himself up, standing on his two feet while grasping at the railings of the crib. Erica, seemed to be much more interested in trying to figure out if she could pull her feet behind her head. "Okay Jack. Looks like you're up first." Chandler walked over and lifted his son from the crib, which caused Jack to giggle in response. "Don't get too worked up kiddo. Let's try to stay quiet so Mom can get some sleep." He brought Jack over to the changing table and made quick work of his wet diaper; he snapped his pajamas closed and placed him back in the crib.

He turned to Erica, who was still working out sounds like, "ffff" and "shhh" while she tugged on her own feet. "Okay there Mary Lou Retton; your turn." He snatched her up and tickled at her belly to get her to let go of her feet. Chandler then crinkled up his nose and twisted his face up in disgust. "Oh. You were not a good girl last night." He laid her on the table and snapped open her onesie. Almost immediately, the stench of her dirty diaper wafted up and through his nostrils. "Oh Erica. Wow. I definitely did not order this early bird special." He took his time cleaning her, still more self-conscious when changing his daughter than he was his son. He replaced her diaper, and carefully inspected her onesie. "Okay, I'm just going to check and make sure this isn't, uh, contaminated in some way." Once he was satisfied, he put them back on her and settled her down on the floor, holding her hand. "You want to walk downstairs this morning?"

Erica looked up at him and started to stick her tongue between her lips. "fffppphhh. ennnnuuhh."

Chandler nodded at her and widened his eyes as if captivated by her words. "You don't say? Well, I think I would like to go eat some breakfast too. Should we bring Jack?"

"buuhh. ffff. buuhhh."

"Well, let's give him another chance today and if he does that again, we will see if the factory will take him back." Chandler walked Erica over towards the crib and pulled Jack up with his free hand. "Okay kids. Let's go eat."

Once downstairs, Chandler quickly settled the twins into their highchairs and spread a few cheerios on both their trays. "Don't tell your mother I didn't wipe these down first." He went over to the kitchen counter and began to work on their bottles. Quickly setting up one for each child. "Okay, Erica, you've been pretty good at doing this on your own. You want to try again?"

Erica's hands greedily reached out as she danced her fingers on the edge of the bottle her father was holding. "nnnn. guh."

"Okay. But if you make a mess, we blame it on Jack." He turned to look at Jack apologetically. "Sorry buddy. But you're cute enough to get away with it." He pulled a chair up and slid it forward so he could sit next to the twins. He held Jack's bottle up so his son could drink down his own helping of formula.

It only took a few minutes for Jack to drain the last from his bottle. Erica seemed to lose interest in her own as well, which let Chandler know they were both ready for something a little more solid. He snatched a banana from the basket in the middle of the table and looked at the centerpiece his wife had set up, shaking his head at the sheer volume of bananas she had settled there. "Guys, I will never understand your mother. She has been filling this bowl with an insane amount of food for years. Do you know, one time we had eight pineapples in here? She cooked with them so much, by the end of the week I actually turned into a didn't want to look at another pineapple ever again. You could say I was pine-appalled." He snickered to himself and looked over at the twins, who stared back at him blankly. "Oh, what do you guys know about puns." He broke the banana into a few smaller pieces, placing some in front on both his children. They immediately began to squeeze the chunks between their fingers as they shoveled it into their mouths. He took the last section of banana for himself, chewing it down as he walked over to the kitchen counter to brew some coffee.

He leaned up against the counter with his empty mug as he waited for the coffee machine to finish and he smiled to himself. He held his cup up as if he were offering up a toast to his children. "Look at us, huh guys? A year ago, we didn't even know each other, and now we're eating breakfast together. Although you're getting more of it on your faces than in your mouths. You really take after your uncle Joey, huh?" He poured out some coffee for himself and reached into a brown paper bag on the counter to pull out a plain bagel. He sat back down at the table and sipped at his coffee as he broke off tiny pieces of bagel to share between Jack and Erica.

After a quick change of clothes for the twins and a second cup of coffee for himself, the three of them made their way into the den. Jack and Erica were already moving around the room, grabbing at toys and using furniture to pull themselves up to their feet. "I have got to tell you guys, not to brag, but I am pretty good at this dad stuff. You two are fed, you're dressed and I still have over an hour before I have to leave for work." Suddenly, there was a thud as Jack pulled a framed photo down from the end table which caused it to crash onto the floor. Chandler shook his head and got up from the recliner. "Dude. You're killing me."

* * *

Chandler checked his watch on the way downstairs. He was running late. He knew he probably should have skipped breakfast with Monica, but over this last month, the two of them enjoying a meal together has become a rare occurrence; so he decided to take advantage, even if it was just a couple of toasted bagels. He looked at himself quickly in the hallway mirror, straightened his tie and ran a few fingers through his hair. He called out to Monica as he slipped his suit jacket on. "Okay, I have to run. You'll be okay?"

Monica was sitting on the floor playing with Jack while Erica was played on her own next to them. She looked up at him and smiled. "Yes. Rachel will be here later with Emma, so I'll have reinforcements."

Chandler chuckled and entered the den. "Okay. I'll see you later when I get home. Maybe we will even get five minutes together before you have to go to the restaurant."

Monica frowned as she stood up and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I know. We haven't really been on the same schedule these last few weeks." She pulled him in for a kiss, and before their lips touched, she softly whispered against his mouth. "I don't think we got to do this yet today." The two of them allowed their kiss to linger for a few extra seconds, enjoying what seemed to be a rare moment of intimacy between them.

Chandler pulled back and smiled as he felt Erica tugging on his pant leg. "You want to say goodbye too?" He bent down to pick her up and gave her a series of quick pecks along the top of her head.

Monica walked across the room to pick up Jack, bringing him over to her husband. "Okay Jack, let's say goodbye to daddy."

Chandler leaned over and placed a kiss on the top of his head. "Okay, I really have to go now." He bent down and gently put Erica back on the floor and turned to leave. "I'll call you later." Monica nodded as she nestled Jack in her arms. Chandler snatched his briefcase from the floor in the hallway and opened the front door, only to stop in his tracks and close it again. "I almost forgot." He turned around and briskly walked back into the den. He looked down at Monica's abdomen. "Goodbye to you too in there." He leaned over and placed a kiss on Monica's stomach. She chuckled and shook her head. "Okay, now I really have to go."

* * *

Chandler winced as he looked ahead at the traffic in front of him. There was no doubt about it; he was going to be late. He knew he should not have stopped for a cup of coffee at the Seven-Eleven in his neighborhood, but he was already feeling sluggish after losing an hour of sleep this morning. With a little more than an hour drive still left; he was going to require a little pick me up to stay focused.

With his car at a full stop, he reached his hand over to open the glove compartment and removed a compact disc. He held it up and smiled. He secretly bought the original cast recording of "Wicked" the same weekend that his father had gifted him the tickets to the show. He has been listening to it every time he drives into the city just to familiarize himself with the songs before they see it in a couple of weeks. Monica originally seemed underwhelmed with the gift, but now, with the pregnancy, the twins and the restaurant wearing her down, even she was looking forward to a date night in the city.

He slid the disc into the car stereo and grabbed his coffee for a quick sip when the car behind him slammed into his rear end, causing the car to jerk and sway as he kept his foot firmly on the brake. His coffee slipped from his hand, spilling all over his shirt causing him to yelp as the hot liquid made contact with his skin. Chandler looked into the rearview mirror and shook his head. "I'm so glad I stopped for coffee."

* * *

Chandler finally arrived at his office and slid his briefcase onto the floor near his desk. He looked down on his phone and saw a post-it note telling him that his boss wanted to see him when he got in. he looked down at his shirt, the coffee stain seemed bigger now than before, if that was possible. He hung his suit jacket onto the back of his chair and walked down the hall, knocking on his boss's open door. "Steve?"

"Chandler, come in." Steve gestured at the chair for Chandler to sit.

"Sorry I'm late. I don't know if you got my message."

"Yes, that's fine." Steve stopped and looked at Chandler's shirt. "Ooo. That is some stain." He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a purple shirt, still wrapped in cellophane. "I have a t-shirt here from one of our company retreats. I think it's a triple-x, but it might feel better that what you're wearing now."

Chandler took the shirt from Steve and nodded. "Thanks."

"Anyway, I wanted to make sure I saw you first. The Hanley-Stevens account decided to go in a different direction and they rejected your pitch."

Chandler looked down and shook his head. "Really?"

"Don't feel bad, this stuff happens."

"I know, I thought I really had something there. I felt really good about it."

"It was good Chandler. Sometimes these companies just go in a different direction. All that matters is that our group still has the account. They liked Dani's proposal so she will be the point person for this, but I want you to be on her team. I think she will have a meeting around three."

"Three?"

"Yes. Will that be a problem?"

Chandler thought about his plans to be home early enough to see Monica and take care of the kids, but realized that after being late to work and having his proposal turned down, he might not be able to afford skipping this first meeting. "No. That's fine. Perfect time for a meeting. If I was going to have a meeting, I would want it at three."

Steve's brow wrinkled as he looked Chandler over suspiciously. "All right then. Are you sure you are okay?"

"Never better."

* * *

Chandler changed his coffee-stained shirt in the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. The purple t-shirt he got from Steve draped over him, hanging below his knees. He studied himself with a dumbfounded look on his face. "Triple-X? This has to be, like a quintuple-X! I could use this shirt as a parachute! I look like Grimace! Even Monica in high school would have found this too big." He leaned against the sink and shook his head. "You are having a banner day, aren't you?"

Chandler grumbled to himself as he left the bathroom and walked over to the pool of cubicles where his desk was. He sat down and exhaled sharply. He took the phone in his hand and dialed home.

"Hey honey. Huh? Yeah, everything is great. How is…oh? You're helping Rachel organize magazine clippings? Wow. You must be in heaven right now. Look, uh, I am going to be late. I have to go to a meeting at three. Is there any way you can go in late? I know. I know. Can Rachel stay? Sure, I'll wait."

Chandler held the receiver to his ear and propped his head up on his hand. He decided to wait until tonight to tell Monica about the accident, figuring she already had enough on her plate today. A few weeks ago, after Doctor Lopresti officially told them they were pregnant, Chandler decided to keep anything from Monica that might cause her added stress. The last thing he wanted was to distract her from taking care of herself. He knew Monica would not be thrilled to find out he was keeping things from her, but he was certain that it was the right thing to do.

"Huh? Oh, that's great. Tell her and Ross I should be home by six. Thanks honey. Okay, I love you. Bye."

Chandler hung up the phone and stared at the photo of his wife that he had on his desk. A dejected look fell across his face. He could not shake the feeling that somehow, he was letting her down. Right when she needed to lean on him the most. The pregnancy, the doctor's appointments, the twins, the house, the restaurant, the tighter financial budget; it all seemed as if it was going to be too much. _"I just need more time to figure this all out. She needs me to have all of this under control." _He knew he did not want to overwhelm her with any of his own problems. _"I'll just bottle all that up. I'm good at that." _He decided she did not need to know about how disappointed he was to have his proposal rejected. In the grand scheme of things, how he was feeling, was not important.

* * *

On his way out of the office, Chandler slipped his suit jacket back on to try and cover the ridiculously over-sized t-shirt he had been wearing all day. He was glad to leave behind the jokes and playful jabs his coworkers were throwing at him as he walked around the office in what basically amounted to a giant purple dress. He made his way downstairs to the garage and as he walked through the auxiliary door that he used as a shortcut, he caught the sleeve of his jacket on the jagged edge of door frame, tearing a strip off as he rushed through. He stopped and inspected the large hole and shook his head. "Unbelievable."

He waved his hand dismissively at the door and walked to his car. He winced when he saw the damage that was caused by the accident he had earlier and wondered how he was going to tell Monica that the Porsche was going to need to go into the auto body repair shop for a few days. He wondered to himself if maybe he could take care of it without even letting her know. He sat down and turned the key in the ignition, only to hear the engine sputter out and fail to turn over. He tried and failed several times to start the car and finally resigned himself to banging his head against the steering wheel.

* * *

Chandler walked into his home and his shoulders sagged as he dropped his briefcase on the ground. He had no idea how relieved he would feel once he stepped into his house.

"Hey? Chandler? That you?" Ross turned the corner from the den and stopped as he looked as his disheveled friend. "Oh man, what happened to you?"

Chandler raised a weary eyebrow and took off his jacket. He held it at arm's length and twisted his face up in disgust. "Thanks to the man who thought it would be a good idea to sleep on my shoulder for half of the train ride home, this is now garbage. I think he actually drooled marinara sauce on me."

Ross pointed at the jacket and nodded. "Yeah, plus you got this big rip in it."

"I know Ross."

Ross looked him up and down. "Dude? What happened?"

"It's just been a very, very long day. How are things here?"

"Good. We actually just got Jack and Erica out of the bath. We couldn't find pajamas for them."

"That's okay. I can grab them. Can you guys hang out just a little longer? I'll check in on them and then take a fast shower."

Rachel slipped out of the kitchen and saw Chandler as he was about to ascend the stairs. "Hey." She looked at his over-sized shirt and covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. "How are you doing there, purple rain?"

Chandler mocked laughter and shook his head. "Thanks for watching the kids today. Sorry I got held up at work."

Ross patted him on the shoulder. "No problem, Barney. We did it because we love you." Ross began to sing. "Won't you say you love me too?" Rachel doubled over and laughed. Chandler turned to face the two of them on his way up the stairs, banging his hands together, signaling the Ross Geller middle finger.

* * *

Chandler's eyes opened as he felt a soft kiss against his forehead. He smiled and looked up at his wife. "Hey. I missed you."

She smiled at him as she leaned up against the arm of the chair. "Me too. How was your day?"

"Terrible. You?"

"Amazing." Chandler could not help but slump back down in his chair. "Don't pout. I have a feeling your day may end with a bang. Meet me upstairs in five minutes?"

Chandler quickly sat up straight as he flashed her a salacious smile. "Really? You sure you're up for this?"

Monica nodded her head slowly and slipped her robe open a little, revealing a thin, sheer, black nightie underneath. "Just a little preview."

Chandler jumped from his seat and she placed her hand on his chest. "Just give me five minutes." He nodded impatiently as he watched her leave.

Chandler was sure that this was the longest five minutes of his life. He made his way upstairs, certain that he might be a minute or two early. He stood outside the bedroom door and glanced over at the bathroom he had cleaned up earlier in the evening. "Worked like a charm." He swung the door open and started to frantically unbutton his shirt, but stopped in his tracks as Monica pulled the covers back. His eyes ran along the curve of her hips as the sheer, black nightie bunched up slightly along her thighs.

He was prepared to lunge at her, but paused and realized his breath smelled like a combination of coffee, day old spaghetti and the cigarette he bummed off of the tow truck operator who came and took the Porsche. "Wait! Let me brush my teeth!" He heard Monica groan as he turned around, but he knew his wife, and he knew a fresh, minty mouth would be much more enticing than what his probably tasted like at this moment. He tried to make quick work of his dental hygiene. He got held up flossing, but soon enough, he was making his way back to the bedroom when he found his wife, lying on top of the sheets, sound asleep.

"Mon? Hey, Mon?" He only response was some low snoring. He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her and smiled. "I should have skipped brushing my teeth." He looked her over and discovered she was not wearing anything underneath her nightie. "Oh man. You went commando?" He shook his head at the lost opportunity and then scanned the room, finding a pair of her sweat pants on the dresser. He carefully pulled them up, surprised that she did not wake up from all of the jostling he was causing, but also half-hoping that she would.

When he got her pants up around her waist, he slid her over to her side of the bed and covered her with the blanket. He finishes undressing and slipped into bed next to her, kissing her on the shoulder as he shook his head one last time. "Good night."

* * *

Chandler felt his wife's hands on him, shaking him awake. He rolled over to face her and began to rub his eyes as he heard her speaking in a hushed tone. "Why do people whisper when they are trying to wake somebody up? It doesn't make it any more pleasant."

"What happened?"

"When I got back from the bathroom you were out cold."

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I tried. If I didn't see you breathing, I would have sworn you were dead. I wasn't exactly gentle when I put those sweatpants on you." Monica looked down at herself again and huffed out a chuckle. "Don't worry about it. You had a long day."

Chandler went to roll over again, but was stopped in his motions when Monica placed her hand on his shoulder. She reached down and began to yank her pants off. "Don't fall asleep on me now mister. You and I are going to wake up and do this right!"

Monica threw herself on top of him, eliciting a surprised groan from her husband. She kissed at his neck and worked her way down his chest and Chandler could only smile and think about earlier this morning, wondering again how he got so lucky to have this woman fall in love with him.

* * *

A/N – In case it isn't clear, this is the flip side to the last chapter. "Monica's Perfect Day"

I actually took the car accident, the stained shirt, and the giant purple shirt all from one totally awesome day. It was fun to go to three meetings in a shirt that looked like a dress.

Monica is about 11 weeks pregnant. Not sure if the timeline has been clear. We are approaching the Twins one-year birthday if that helps.

The centerpieces in Friends are insane. If you haven't noticed, try and check it out when you watch. There is a bowl that is always filled on Monica's table. I mean, no one is eating all of the bell peppers Mon! No one!


	22. Dizzy Spells

**Dizzy Spells**

"Can you believe that this weekend the twins will be one? I feel like this whole year has gone by so fast."

"Really? I feel like I can't remember a time when we didn't have two babies filling up diapers ten times a day. That's ten times each. Twenty dirty diapers a day. That's inhumane."

Monica chuckles and looks out the passenger window, letting her eyes run along the houses as they drive through their quiet Westchester neighborhood. "Do you think we should try to make friends with more of our neighbors? So far the only one's we know are John and Millie across the street and you hate them."

"I don't hate them. I just don't particularly like them."

"What's the difference?"

"I don't know." Chandler shrugs his shoulders and smirks. "Why do we need new friends anyway? Don't we have enough? I mean, I was going to talk to you about maybe seeing if we could drop one or two of them from the rotation."

Monica huffs and rolls her eyes. "Chandler. I'm being serious. Jack, Erica and little baby Bing are going to be growing up here. Shouldn't we try to meet some of the other parents on the block?"

"We tried that. Or do you not remember the Toddler Time Gymnastics Incident. I'm pretty sure they have your picture on the wall so they know not to let you back in again."

Monica narrows her eyes at her husband and grumbles under her breath. "Think about it. Saturday we are having a birthday party for the twins on Saturday and we aren't inviting anybody from the neighborhood."

Chandler mocks a shocked gasp. Monica shakes her head and pulls her arm back, threatening to slap him on the shoulder. "Don't do it."

Monica purses her lips and folds her arms. "I think we should have an informal barbeque next weekend. Invite the neighbors. Knock on some doors. Do a meet and greet. Maybe I can make some more of that candy I made a few years ago. It'll be fun!"

Chandler twists his face up in confusion. "Next weekend? But that's our getaway weekend. We're going to see Wicked and spend the night at a nice hotel."

Monica looks down and nods. "Oh. That's right."

Chandler lifts an eyebrow and glances over at her. "Come on. I thought you were excited about that. A romantic evening in the city. No babies. No restaurant."

"I am. It's just," Monica sighs and places her hand on his knee. "I'm nervous about having our first night away from Jack and Erica."

"Is that what all this getting to know the neighbors stuff is about?"

"No. Yes. Maybe. I don't know. Look. Don't expect me to make a lot of sense. I am pregnant. It messes with your mind!"

Chandler reaches over, gently touches her stomach and smiles. "I know." Monica places her hand over his and their fingers interlock. She smiles and looks back out the window.

* * *

Doctor Lopresti wheels his chair back and rips off his latex gloves, tossing them into the trash can next to the counter in the examination room. "Well. Everything is looking pretty good. Baby's heartbeat is strong. Amniotic fluid looks good. You seem to be in good health. Any problems or concerns so far?"

"No. I've been feeling a lot better lately. I seem to be over the nausea but I still get very tired at times."

"Well, make sure you take it easy when you can. Drink lots of water, and just listen to your body. If you need to sit, then sit. If you need to eat, then eat. If you need to sleep, then sleep."

Monica frowns and nods. "Easier said than done."

"I know. Just try. The better you take care of yourself, the better the pregnancy will go and the better the baby will do."

Chandler rubs her arm and then winces a bit as he starts to stammer. "Hey doc. I was wondering, uh, well, is there a cut-off date for, you know. S-E-X?"

Doctor Lopresti looks up at Chandler, slightly bemused. "Why did you spell it out."

Chandler rubs his hands together nervously. "I don't know." He looks at Monica who shakes her head at him. Chandler then points at her stomach. "There's a baby in the room."

Monica raises her eyebrows and chuckles. "There is a baby in the room, unfortunately, I'm married to him."

The doctor laughs and shakes his head as he stands up. "Well, you don't have to worry about that for now. Monica, as long as you feel comfortable you guys can have intercourse as often as you want."

Monica looks over at her husband and glares at him with admonishment in her eyes., "Did you hear that Chandler. As long as I am comfortable."

"What? Why?"

Monica shakes her finger at him. "Because, for the last couple of years, you keep requesting sex in some pretty uncomfortable places."

Chandler laughs nervously and darts his eyes from his wife to the doctor and back again. "I don't think the doctor needs to know about any of that."

Monica turns to Doctor Lopresti with an exasperated look on her face. "I mean, do you know where he wants to do it?"

"Uh, I don't think I need to know."

"In the back seat of the Porsche. Do you know how small that seat is?"

Dr. Lopresti starts to walk towards the door and stammers a bit. "Uh, well, we're done here so…"

Chandler scoffs and folds his arms as he pouts. "I offered to do another one of my scarf dances for you if we did."

Monica lifts her arms in disbelief as she shakes her head. "That's not an incentive!"

"You guys know I'm not the kind of doctor that you have to talk to about this kind of stuff with, right?"

* * *

Monica, fresh from a much-needed hot shower, walks into the bedroom, humming and wrapped up in a robe. She sees Chandler, propped up on a pillow and reading a book. She smiles at him as she settles down on the end of the bed. She loosens the sash on her robe slightly to expose her legs and opens up a small container of moisturizer. She begins to rub it into her skin; slowly lifting each leg up as she spreads the creamy lotion from her calves up to her thighs. Her robe slips down and exposes her shoulder. Before she can reach over to fix it, she hears a thud from behind her.

She looks over her shoulder and narrows her eyes playfully. Chandler is staring at her, slack-jawed. His book now on the floor as his eyes go wide as if he has become hypnotized by his wife's nightly routine. "Can I help you?"

Chandler shakes his head to snap out of his trance and allows a salacious smile to spread across his lips. "I think the real question is; can I help you?"

Monica turns her attention back to her task and shakes her head, hiding the bashful smile that instantly appears on her face. "Oh, I don't know. I'm almost done here."

"Yeah, but, uh, don't you need to rub that somewhere else besides your legs?"

"Maybe."

"How, uh, comfortable do you feel tonight?"

Monica can't help but laugh as she looks up at the ceiling and turns her head quickly, causing her hair to tussle around on her shoulders. "Oh, I am very comfortable right now."

Chandler takes his glasses off and places them on the bedside table. He bounces on the bed, giddy with excitement. "Okay great!"

"But no scarf dance!"

* * *

"Chandler? Did you pick up the ice from the restaurant or should I call someone to drop it off?"

Chandler leans back in his chair at the kitchen table so he can be seen from the stairway when Monica reaches the bottom step. "Actually, Ross and Rachel are on their way and he is going to stop there and pick some up."

"Okay, good. So, the one job I gave you for the party, you delegated to my brother."

"I know. Pretty smart right?"

Monica huffs and steps into the kitchen. She begins to speak softly, almost mumbling to herself. "Cake, check. Cheese tray, check. Bread, check."

"You know honey, nobody likes it when you do that."

Monica shoots Chandler a stern look from over her shoulder and then returns her attention to the items spread about the kitchen counter. "I just want to go over everything one more time before Jack and Erica wake up."

"I know. They told me before their nap that if everything wasn't just right, they were going to leave and let all the other one-year old babies know how terrible the party was. That'll really hurt our Zagat rating."

"Are you going to do any actual work or are you going to make bad jokes all day?"

"Probably a little bit of both."

Monica scoffs and grabs a tray of melon. "Here, why don't you cut these up into smaller chunks." She starts to walk over towards the table and stops as she becomes wobbly and her knees buckle.

"Woah!" Chandler leaps up from his chair and wraps his arm around her waist, leaning her weight onto his body as he takes the tray and places it on the table. "Hey, you okay?"

"Uh, yeah." Monica leans over and places her hand on her head. "Yeah, I just got dizzy for a moment. I just need a minute."

"You have been working yourself too hard for this party. I think you should sit for a little while and have some water. Come on." Chandler begins to lead Monica out of the kitchen.

"But there is still so much to do."

"I'll do it. Just tell me what to do and lower your expectations on how well it will get done. When Ross and Rachel get here, they'll help out too."

Monica thinks about protesting once more, but relents and lets Chandler lead her into the den. She settles down on the couch and leans her head back. "Okay. Just for a few minutes."

* * *

"Will you guys stop? I'm fine!"

Rachel walks by carrying a tray of food. "Mon, we just want to help."

"That's not true. You guys never want to help."

"Okay. Well, we just want to help right now. I know what it's like, one minute you feel fine, the next minute you don't. It can sneak up on you."

"That was almost an hour ago."

Ross walks towards the back door and chuckles with a cooler filled with crushed ice. "Rach, take it from me. You will never convince Mon that she needs help."

"That's not true."

Chandler steps into the kitchen, grabs some plates that were stacked on the table, and then turns to walk back out. "Yes, it is. Last week you wouldn't let me get the serving tray from the top shelf in the cabinet. You can't even reach that shelf when you're standing on a chair."

"I can if I'm wearing heels, smart guy." Chandler shakes his head as he exits the kitchen. "I'm telling you guys, I'm fine."

Rachel suppresses a smile and looks down. "Look, Mon; you just keep telling us what to do, and we'll do it."

Before Monica can answer back, the phone rings. "I'll get it." Chandler steps back into the kitchen, snatching the receiver from the wall. "Hello. Dani? Hi. What? Yeah, I think I have a copy of that. Sure. Do you want me to, oh, okay. You're in the area. Okay. Then, I'll see you in a little while."

Monica tilts her head and furrows her brow. "Honey? Who was that?"

"Dani. From work. There's some data sheets and demo breakdowns in the paperwork I brought home yesterday. Dani most have forgotten it at the office and needs to borrow mine."

Ross takes a sip of beer and then nods at Chandler. "Oh, was that the project you were telling me about the other day that got you all bummed out. The one they passed you over with?"

Chandler grouses under his breath and grinds his teeth angrily. "Yes Ross. Funny you remember that but not the 'don't tell Monica' part."

"Oh dude. I'm so sorry."

Monica whips her head back and forth between Ross and Chandler. "What do you mean 'don't tell Monica'?"

Chandler walks over to Monica and puts his hands on her hips. "It's nothing. Really. There was this new client that turned down my proposal."

Monica looks over at her brother and then back to her husband. "Well obviously it wasn't nothing if you told Ross about it."

"I worked really hard on it and I guess I was feeling pretty lousy about it, but I'm fine now. They took someone else's idea and I'm working on their team. No big deal."

Monica puts her hands on his chest and shakes her head. "Chandler. If something is bothering you, I don't want you to keep it from me."

"You have so much going on. I don't want to add any stress."

"Telling Ross that something is bothering you and not telling your wife stresses me out." Monica's features soften as she pulls Chandler over towards the table to sit down. "Honey. If there is anyone you should feel you can come to when you are not happy, it should be me. Just like I go to you whenever something is bothering me. I can't have that change just because I'm pregnant or because I'm dealing with something at the restaurant."

Chandler looks down and nods. "Yeah. I guess."

"There's always going to be something going on. Soon enough we will have three kids running around here. I think it is very sweet that you want to take care of me, but we can't stop talking to each other about things like that. Okay?"

Chandler looks up and smiles. "Okay."

Monica leans in and places a soft kiss on his lips. "All right. So Danny is coming by today to pick up this paperwork?"

"Yeah. She should be here in about a half-hour."

Monica sits up straight and cocks one eyebrow. "She? Dani is a girl?"

"Yeah. Danielle. I didn't mention that?"

"Uh, no. You didn't mention that. So, You'll be working with this Dani chick while I get all big and fat?"

"Honey. You're not going to get big and fat for at least a couple of months. By then, I probably won't be working on this project anymore."

Ross looks down and shakes his head. "That was not the right answer."

Chandler rolls his eyes and then takes Monica's hand in his. "Honey. You know there's nothing to worry about, right?"

Monica reluctantly nods. "Yeah, I know."

"I mean, unless you think you're going to get really big and fat." Monica breathes in sharply and slaps Chandler on the chest. She gets up and storms out of the room. Chandler chuckles to himself as he hops up from his chair to follow her. "What? I thought we were still sharing all our feelings."


	23. Wicked

**Wicked**

Chandler pushed open the door to the hotel room, stepped aside, and placed his hand on the small of Monica's back; guiding her first through the entranceway in front of them. "Check it out! Does your husband deliver or does your husband deliver?"

Monica looked around the spacious hotel suite and clicked her tongue. "You do have your moments." She bit her lip and tried to suppress a smile; she wanted to hold back and not reward Chandler with too much exuberance so soon, knowing he would be impossible to deal with for the rest of the night. Yet, she could not deny that the Sofitel was every bit as gorgeous of a hotel as she was led to believe. Even just from standing in the doorway, Monica could tell that this room was special. More important than that, she could tell It was clean. "Do we really need a suite though? We are only staying for one night."

"I know, but these rooms have a great view." Chandler rushed past her on his way to the window and pulled the curtain back, revealing the gorgeous Manhattan skyline, with the Chrysler building bathing in the setting sun as the star attraction. "Tada!" He waved his arms around as if he were a magician who conjured up the picturesque image before them. Monica shook her head and exhaled a laugh as she finally allowed herself to smile. "And, I even made dinner reservations at the French restaurant downstairs. We will eat something that you will love and I will be totally grossed out by, go to the show and then tomorrow morning, we can partake in what I have been told is the best brunch in Midtown."

Monica folded her arms and playfully raised one skeptical eyebrow at her husband. "You really are proud of yourself, aren't you?"

"Like you said, I have my moments."

Monica slid her purse from her shoulder, placing it on the desk as she walked over towards Chandler. She smiled widely as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you." She lifted herself up on her toes to meet his lips with her own and let a slow kiss linger between the two of them.

Chandler waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Well, you know, we could try out that big bed in the other room before dinner." Monica pulled back and pursed her lips as she squinted her eyes at him. In response, Chandler rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You have to unpack first, don't you."

"Well…."

"And you want to call your parents and check on the two little dictators."

Monica nodded and allowed a sheepish smile to spread across her lips. "We do have time now. Dinner isn't going to be for a couple of hours."

Chandler sighed and nodded reluctantly. "Fine. Let's go unpack and call your parents."

Monica clapped her hands together as Chandler wheeled their two bags into the bedroom. She followed him and then laid her suitcase down flat on the floor and opened it. She took a moment to admire her packing job and then turned to look at her husband. "They should give out awards for stuff like this. No one can pack a bag better than me."

"I thought you made yourself a medal for that out of tin foil? Isn't it hanging up in our bedroom?"

"That wasn't for presentation. That was for my record setting time. Oh man, I had that bag packed so fast!"

"What did I marry into?" Chandler chuckled to himself and shook his head. "You know what I don't understand? Why do you make me pack my bag if you are just going to redo it yourself anyway?"

Monica turned to face him and folded her arms. "How else are you going to learn how to do it right?"

"Babe. We are closing in on four years of marriage. I think you should take the hint about me learning to pack a bag like you."

Monica started to laugh smugly. "Yeah, Like I'd ever expect you to pack a bag like me. I just don't want you to pack a bag, like, well, like you."

Chandler shook his head and put his hands on his hips. "I'm going to make some coffee. Do you want anything?"

"No. I'm fine." As Chandler walked out, Monica sat down on the edge of the bed. She was anything but fine. Ever since Jack and Erica's birthday party, she has been feeling worse with each passing day. Tired, sore, crampy, headaches, nausea, dizzy spells. She brought her hand down to her stomach and gently tapped it. "You have to be more Geller than Bing, because you are kicking my ass."

Monica has refused to use the "s" word all week when trying to figure out exactly why she felt so terrible. She will not allow herself to entertain the idea that she might be getting ill. Instead, she has opted to convince herself that it is just allergies or exasperated pregnancy symptoms. Whatever she could do to deny that she might have a cold. Yet, even as she steeled herself against how she was feeling, she had moments during the week where she was worried that she might have had to cancel this overnight trip to the city. Whenever it felt like it was too much and she was close to saying something, she would think about how she spied her husband thumbing through a booklet that came with the Wicked CD that he was certain no one knew he had purchased. It was all she needed to push through and commit to their weekend getaway, no matter how bad she was feeling. After all, it was just one night, and she thought he was too darn cute as he tried to hide that booklet inside the newspaper he was pretending to read. So, she chose to ignore her symptoms and tough it out.

Monica also felt as though she owed him some type of reward. He had been so great ever since they found out she was pregnant. Always attentive to her needs. Taking the lion's share of caring for Jack and Erica while she dealt with bouts of exhaustion and nausea. He never complained and never seemed to tire. She could not bear to take this weekend away from him or taint this evening by letting him know how terrible she feels right now. She could handle it. It is just one night.

Monica decided to lay back on the bed and close her eyes for a few minutes. She felt as though this week had gone by so fast. It seemed like it was just yesterday when they were celebrating the twin's birthday. Another reason to be grateful to her husband. One small moment of weakness from her and he jumped into action. Constantly moving in and out of the kitchen; carrying trays, washing dishes, pouring drinks. It was as if he were making up for all the years of dinner parties and holidays where Monica would practically set everything up on her own as the dutiful hostess. He insisted that she sit and relax for the entire day. She would normally bristle at being treated so gingerly, but she welcomed the extra attention she was receiving, and she noted how he was being so sweet and cute worrying about her all day, that she could not help but indulge herself. With everyone fawning over her, it almost felt like it was her party. She sat there in the corner of the room with her two children, eating cake, and opening presents.

It might have even cracked the top five best days of her life if it was not for Chandler's coworker, Dani showing up. Monica scrunched her face up at the thought of her. Red hair, tiny waist, obnoxiously large breasts. The minute Dani had left, Monica shot Chandler a stern look and he stammered before blurting out, _"I didn't even know she had breasts." _To which her brother replied. "_Well I noticed." _Earning Ross a well-deserved smack on the arm from Rachel.

Later that night, after Chandler worked himself to near exhaustion, getting the twins to bed and cleaning up from the party, Monica had a slight twinge of guilt at how she reacted. As he began to doze off while sitting on his recliner, she wondered if there was a very small chance that she was being slightly irrational. It was not as if she didn't trust him, and she knew blaming Dani for how she looks wasn't fair or in keeping with Monica's own brand of feminism. It had to be the pregnancy. It was a good enough excuse, and it was also why she did not feel that guilty having a second slice of cake later that evening.

But now, she feels as if she could drift off and sleep for the next twenty-four hours straight. Something else she can blame on baby Bing. As she lay there, in the obnoxiously comfortable bed offered to them in the hotel, she wondered to herself, _"Would it be so bad if I took a tiny, little nap?"_

* * *

Chandler sat down on the bed next to Monica and started to gently shake her. "Hey. Babe. You're going to have to get up soon."

Monica's eyes opened slightly, making them look like half-moons as she stretched and yawned. "Chandler. I just want a few minutes to nap."

"Babe. You've been sleeping for two hours."

Monica shot up as her eyes opened wide. "What? Why did you let me sleep? What about dinner?"

"It's fine. I ordered some room service. It just got here. I wasn't sure what to get you so I got a few different things. I got something called Lorraine. That's a weird name for food. And do you know what cassoulet is?"

Monica huffed out a laugh and shook her head. "Beans, sausage and preserved duck."

Chandler twisted his face up in disgust. "Why don't you come inside and eat? You can have the duck thing."

Monica blushed as she lowered herself back down. "I'm sorry. I know you had this all planned out with us having a nice dinner downstairs. I just can't seem to get through this constant exhaustion."

"That's fine. As long as we are together. I'd rather eat here alone with you than in some stuffy restaurant anyway." Chandler held out his hand, and Monica took it as he helped her from the bed.

"Oh. I never got to call my parents."

"I called. Everything is fine. You mother had to change out the sheets in the spare bedroom because, and I quote, 'Big Jack has sensitive skin.' Is that going to be a thing now? Because I don't know if I feel comfortable calling your dad 'Big Jack'."

"Oh, I think it's cute. He's big Jack and we have little Jack."

Chandler shuddered in response. "Big Jack sounds like a euphemism for a penis."

Monica screwed up her face in disgust. "Yeah. Maybe we don't call him that."

* * *

Chandler held his jacket over his arm while he and Monica waited by the door leading into the theater. Monica looked over at the poster for the play and began to chuckle to herself.

Chandler turned and tilted his head at her as an apprehensive smile slowly began to form on his lips. "What's so funny."

"The name of the play. Wicked. It sounds like the musical version of Good Will Hunting."

Chandler raised his eyebrows in puzzlement. "What do you mean?"

Monica started to laugh and turned to Chandler, and began to speak to him with an exaggerated Boston accent. "Cuz he was wicked smaht!" Monica covered her mouth with her hand as she started to laugh loudly and she elbowed Chandler in the ribs. "Get it. Because people from Boston say wicked all the time."

"Oh yeah. I got it. I'm just wondering if we should have a trial separation."

Monica narrowed her eyes as she tried to suppress her smile. Before either one of them could continue, the door opened as an usher shoved a doorstop underneath it to prop it open. He offered to check their tickets and walked them to their seats. Chandler awkwardly slipped him a few dollars as a tip and Monica rolled her eyes as he fumbled with the wrinkled-up bills.

Chandler looked over at her and scoffed as he sat down. "It isn't as easy as it looks."

"The way you do it does not look easy."

* * *

As the play progressed, Chandler became totally engrossed in every movement made on the stage. The set changes, the music, the dancing; it all swept him up into the magic of the theater. Monica would sneak a look at him every now and then and she could not help but smile when she would notice him mouthing along with each song. She reached over and slid her hand onto his arm, leaning her head against his shoulder.

Chandler turned and smiled at her as he leaned down and kissed her forehead, only to pull back suddenly. "Mon. You're burning up."

Monica kept her head rested up against him. "Huh?"

Chandler placed the back of his hand on her forehead. "Mon. I think you might have a fever. You are really hot. Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine. Well. No. Not exactly." Monica bit her lips as she put her hand up to her face and started to run her hand over her cheek. "I guess I didn't even realize. I'm actually feeling a little chill."

Chandler pressed his chin to her head. "You're really warm and sweating. Mon, I think you're sick."

Monica shook her head forcefully and raised her voice. "No. I'm not sick!" A chorus of shushing rained down on them from all around them and she leaned in to speak softly to her husband. "I'm not sick."

Chandler started to gather his coat. "We have to get you out of here."

Monica gestured towards the stage. "But what about the play. You love it."

Chandler stood up and began to take her by the arm, compelling her to follow him. "It doesn't matter. We can try again another time. I really think we should get you back to the hotel."

* * *

As they entered the hotel suite, Monica exhaled with relief. She was happy to be back and could not wait to climb under the covers and fall asleep. Chandler helped her over to the bed and she sat down. "Your eyes are all glassy. Why don't you get under the blanket? I'm going to call that nurse line and see what kind of medicine you can take when you're pregnant."

Monica nodded weakly. "Okay. Actually, I think I might rinse off real fast and change."

"Okay, but then right into bed, all right?" Chandler stepped out of the room and began to search his wallet for his insurance card. He sat down on the couch near the phone, frantically sticking his fingers into each fold. "Honey? Do you have the insurance card in your purse? I can't find it."

Monica stepped out of the bedroom. "Let me check." She started to walk towards the desk where she dropped her purse and began to wobble on her feet. Chandler shot up and reached out to grab her, straightening her back upright. "Woah, are you okay?"

Monica raised her hand to her head. "Yeah, just another little dizzy spell. To be honest, I've been feeling off all week."

"Why didn't you tell me? We could have called Doctor Lopresti."

"I didn't want to ruin tonight, but now I did and now it's all…." Monica trailed off as her eyes fluttered.

"Mon?"

Monica blinked a few times and cleared her throat. "I think, I think. Did you buy bananas?"

Chandler held her other hand and stared at her in confusion. "What?"

Monica shook her head forcefully. "Bananas. No. I can't think of the word. Did I, uh, who called?"

Chandler's expression changed from confused to concerned quickly as he moved closer to her. "What?"

Monica pushed back from Chandler and ran her hand over her face. "I don't feel so good." Her eyes rolled back as her body went limp, causing her to fall to the floor.

* * *

Chandler sat on the cold plastic chairs closest to the nurses' station and counted the tiles on the floor. He tried to get any kind of information about his wife from the nurse sitting at the desk ever since he and Monica arrived at the hospital. Yet, every time he tried to get an answer from them, it would just lead to more questions for him. Questions he could not answer. After his fifth attempt to get the nurse to find his wife's doctor, he resigned himself to waiting. Waiting and counting floor tiles.

Forty-five minutes have gone by since they wheeled her behind that door. He looked back down at the clipboard and shook his head. He could only fill out a third of the requested information on the paperwork. Monica was the one who always filled out these forms. She never needed to look up any of the answers. Social security numbers, health coverage member IDs, blood types, allergies, medical history. She had it all cataloged in that amazing brain of hers.

Chandler realized he could not sit and count tiles when he was this frightened. And he was frightened. His wife had passed out almost an hour ago and he had no idea if her eyes had opened back up again. He could not wait any longer, and decided to see if the sixth time asking would have better results.

As he stood up, he noticed a young doctor he had never seen before come out from behind the closed door that they had pushed his wife through. The doctor leaned down and spoke with the nurse at the desk who then looked over at Chandler and pointed at him. As the doctor nodded and approached Chandler, he stood up to meet him in the middle of the room.

"Mr. Bing?"

Chandler barely heard the man. "What's going on? My wife was feeling sick and no one can tell me what's going on or where she is."

The doctor gestured for Chandler to sit, but he shook his head. "Your wife has a pretty bad bacterial infection. Do you know what BV is?" Chandler hardly had the energy to reply, and instead he shook his head slowly in response. "Well, your wife had a bacterial infection that gets caused when there is an imbalance of healthy bacteria and it resulted in endometriosis in her uterus. She also has some internal bleeding. Did she complain to you of cramping or any kind of bleeding this week?"

Chandler shook his head. "Doc. You are a doc? Right?'''

The doctor nodded. "Look, Mister Bing. I know I am throwing a lot at you, but the more we know the better we can treat your wife."

"Just tell me, how is she."

"She is in bad shape right now, we can't do anything until we get her fever down, but we have her on antibiotics and we feel certain we will be able to get the infection under control and hopefully perform a D&C. We will know more in a few hours."

Chandler shook his head in frustration. "I don't know what any of that means."

The doctor put his hand on Chandler's should and nodded as he flashed a sympathetic look. "She's really sick right now, but we feel fairly confident that we got her here in time and we can get her feeling better. As long as there aren't any other complications or unforeseen problems."

Chandler lets out a sigh of relief. "What about the baby?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Bing. Your wife had what we call a silent miscarriage. Probably about six or seven days ago. I regret to inform you that she lost the baby."


	24. Love, Hope, Freckles and Sorrow

**Love, Hope, Freckles and Sorrow**

Chandler looked up and stared at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling of the waiting room as he sat forward in his chair. He strained his eyes as he tried to fixate his gaze almost directly above his head. He wondered how long he could do this without blinking. Then, as if on cue, his eyeballs started to feel as if they were becoming itchy and he realized that, if he did not blink, they would either crust over and dry out or begin to water and tear up. He hesitated for a moment but then resigned himself to lowering his gaze to the floor, allowing him to close his eyes.

He decided to keep his eyes closed for a few moments, hoping it would help him quiet his worried mind. Instead, he felt as if he were being transported out of the hospital and into the past. Images played inside his head in reverse. He thought that maybe his subconscious was trying to erase the image of Monica's pale, sweaty body being wheeled through the entrance of the emergency room. Her eyes closed and her breathing labored. She seemed so lifeless and not at all like the woman he has known. That woman looked nothing like the one who was dancing around in his head, jumping from memory to memory.

* * *

_He remembers so clearly sitting in his chair and sulking in his apartment. He does not recognize this person he once was. Obnoxiously moody and malcontent. Self-pity always painted him in the worst color. Mercifully, there was a knock on his door and he had to get up, even though he still managed to angrily stomp over to answer it, ready to send whoever it was away. _

_And then there she was, standing there in his doorway with a turkey on her head. An actual turkey. The memory so powerful that he could still smell it. The lengths that this woman would go through for him, the patience and understanding she exhibited when what he probably deserved instead was a smack on the head. She looked ridiculous, and she did it all for him. _

"_I bet this will work." _

_In that moment, while she shimmied her perfect body around in his kitchen, he could not help but laugh. This unfamiliar warmth spread over his entire being. He loved this woman. It wasn't romantic or dramatic, or some bombastic declaration, it was simply a stated fact. Irrefutable. The sky was blue. Water was wet. Chandler loved Monica. _

_Even as he tried to take back the words that he had blurted out, fearing he was moving too fast for her, he knew it was too late to deny it to himself. He was already head over heels in love with this woman. How foolish he was, dancing around and trying to pretend he never said it. He should have said it again and again instead of depriving himself from experiencing that intoxication he felt when she finally said it back to him. He wasted so much time being scared. The two of them, in that moment, acting like fools. Fools in love._

* * *

"Hey, why don't we go get a cup of coffee?" Chandler opened his eyes and looked up at Ross who placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Ross was the first phone call Chandler made after he spoke with the doctor. He did not have the courage to phone home and speak with Jack and Judy at that time. At least, not before testing out what he would sound like with Ross first. He was right to do so. He was a mess on the phone and could hardly string together a coherent sentence. Thankfully, Ross was fluent in decoding the mystery language of a panicked Chandler Bing. He called his father, told him what was happening, and then came to the hospital as fast as he could. Rachel had to stay home with Emma, but was going to have her mother come into the city to watch her so she could see Monica in the morning.

Chandler smiled weakly and shook his head. "No. What if the doctor comes out here to find me? What if she wakes up and I'm not here?"

Ross sighed and pointed down the hall. "Look, the coffee machine is right there. You won't miss anything. I just think you need to get up and walk around. It's been three hours. My dad is right there, if they call for you and somehow, we don't hear the nurse, he will come get us. Okay?"

Chandler looked over at Jack Geller who seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Jack had shown up an hour ago. After helping put the twins to bed, he got in the Porsche and drove into the city as fast as he could. He spoke with Ross when he arrived at the hospital and then sat down on the other side of the room. Chandler tried to make eye contact with his father-in-law to see if he overhead them talking, but he never looked up. Chandler turned back to Ross and slowly nodded. "Sure. I guess if it is just for a minute."

They approached the machine and Ross took out his wallet as he studied the front of the coffee station. Chandler looked back towards the waiting room and impatiently bounced from one foot to the other. Unable to stay still.

Ross could not help but exhale out a chuckle as he put his hand on Chandler's shoulder to steady him. "Hey, she's going to be all right. You know that, right?" Chandler nodded quietly and cleared his throat. "The last we heard is they think they are getting the fever to drop. That's a good thing. Soon enough you'll be able to see her."

Chandler looked down as a dejected look fell over his face. "Yeah. If she wants me to."

Ross screwed his face up and wrinkled his brow in confusion. "What? Why wouldn't she want to see you?"

"Ross. This is all my fault."

Ross scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

Chandler began to gesticulate as he became more agitated. "I'm the one who got her pregnant. I should have known that something could happen. I should have asked more questions when we first saw the doctor. I should have made less jokes."

Ross shook his head and flashed his friend a sympathetic smile. "Chandler. Stop. This isn't on you. It isn't anyone's fault."

"Well, it feels that way. Now you and your dad probably wish Monica and I never met. He won't even look at me. He is probably furious with me. This is why I ran away the night before the wedding. I knew I would let her down."

"Chandler. Will you stop? You are the best thing that ever happened to her. Do you know that? Before you, Mon, well, I don't think she was in a good place. In all my life I've never seen her as happy as she has been with you."

He nods. "I just…I'm scared. She needs to get better and wake up. I can't lose her you know? Everything that is good in my life is because of her."

Ross looks down and mumbled under his breath. "Well, I did introduce you two. I probably deserve some credit."

Chandler smirked, and for the first time his sullen expression seems to disappear. He huffed out a chuckle. "Just buy the coffee."

Ross smiled as he placed some money in the coffee machine and began pressing buttons. Chandler shook his head and let one more chuckle escape from his lips as he looked down the hallway. Without warning, his mind shuffled back into the past again.

* * *

_He was standing in the nursery at the new house with his hands on his hips admiring the wall he had just painted. He felt good about himself today. He placed drop clothes throughout the room to ensure the carpet stayed clean. He found the can of deep blue paint, the rollers, and the pan in the basement. He almost felt like an actual man, like the ones you would see on television in those home repair shows. _

_They were making good progress in the house. Even though Erica had not given birth yet, Monica had them working double time to get the house ready. She desperately wanted to make sure the baby's room would be ready in time. He knew she would be pleasantly surprised that he got all of this done on his own before she showed up to help. _

"_Oh no. what did you do?" Chandler turned to face her as he was snapped out of his thoughts. _

"_I thought I would surprise you and paint the nursery."_

"_You used the wrong color! Why didn't you use the paint cans I marked for the nursery?"_

"_I did. These have a big N on them."_

"_That's not an N. That's an H. This was for the hallway!"_

"_Wow. You really have to work on your penmanship."_

"_Chandler, this isn't funny. What are we going to do?"_

"_Well, why not keep it like this? It's a nice color."_

"_Because this is the color for the hallway. If we use it in here, then we have to find something different for out there and then it throws my entire color scheme off! This is why you aren't allowed to be here by yourself."_

"_What?"_

"_Seriously, sometimes I feel like I already have a child."_

"_Oh yeah? Well if I am a child then I might as well do this." Chandler was not often brave enough to test his wife's patience, but sometimes, he could not help himself. As she stood there with her hands on her hips, he lifted the brush and slapped it against his arm causing blue paint to travel across the room and splatter all over her. _

_She fumed and looked down at herself, her overalls now covered in paint, she lifted a finger to wipe some of the paint from her face. "You are dead meat!" Monica grabbed the roller from the tray and charged at him, intent on covering him in blue paint._

_Chandler would only stop hopping around long enough to jab at her with his brush, getting paint up and down her arms. She finally cornered him and ran the roller over his chest, covering his shirt and neck. Before she could come back for a second coat, he snatched her wrists in his hands and she started to laugh. _

_This was his Monica. The one who could let loose at times and actually have fun making a mess. This one who could get swept up in their particular brand of childish antics that none of their other friends would ever understand. He reached up and cupped her face with a paint covered hand and pulled her down to the floor. The two of them kissing each other roughly and pulling at each other's clothes._

* * *

"How you holding up son?"

Chandler jumped back in his seat as Jack sat down next to him and patted him on the leg. "Huh? Oh, okay, I guess. I just wish we knew something new."

Jack nodded as a sullen expression fell over his face. "I know."

Chandler joined his father-in-law in his melancholy for a moment but then straightened up. "Oh, if you talk to Judy again tonight, please thank her staying with Jack and Erica."

"Don't worry about it. You just focus on what is going on here. You take care of Monica."

Chandler smiled back at Jack weakly. "Yes sir."

Jack paused for a moment and looked at his son-in-law. "You know, she is going to be okay."

Chandler nodded again in agreement. "She's the strongest person I know."

Jack bobbed his head up and down, but then quickly shook his head side to side. "I know, but that isn't what I mean. She is going to be okay because she has you."

Chandler looked over at Jack, confused by his words. "What?"

"Son, listen. Monica has had a lot of boyfriends. I mean, a lot."

"Okay. That doesn't really help."

Jack chuckled and then quickly composed himself. "I'm sorry. What I mean is, you're the only one I met that I knew was going to put her first. You adore her. I know I don't have to worry about her because you will take care of her."

Chandler snorted a bit and nodded. "Normally she's the one taking care of me."

"Well, now it is your turn. I know you will do fine. She's your whole world. Just like those two kids you have back home. I see it every time we are all together. You've always done right by her and I'm really proud to call you my son-in-law."

Chandler could not help but smile. "Wow. I don't know if anyone's ever been proud of me before. Thanks."

Jack patted Chandler on the knee one more time and then got up to walk across the room and join Ross at the vending machine.

* * *

"_Honey, I really am so proud of you." Monica slid into bed and pulled the blanket up over her shoulders as she wrapped her arms around Chandler. _

_He turned over so she could lay on his chest and kissed the top of her head. "Yeah? I mean, it is only a junior copywriter position. It still won't pay as much as my old job."_

"_Of course, I'm proud of you. Look at what you did. You got this job and you have zero experience. You don't even have a degree in the field. Do you know how special that is?"_

"_I guess so."_

"_I'm just glad you finally got to hear someone else tell you. I get the feeling when I say it to you, it falls on deaf ears."_

"_Tell me what?"_

"_Tell you how special you are."_

_Chandler could not help but smile. No one had ever felt that way about him until Monica. "Really?"_

_Monica huffed out a cocky chuckle. "You get to sleep with me, don't you."_

"_I've known you for a long time, I'm not sure if that is as exclusive of a club as you think it is."_

_Monica reached over and pinched at his chest, squeezing him where his third nipple used to be, causing him to yelp in pain. "It's exclusive now. Do you want it to stay that way?"_

_Chandler rubbed his chest and clicked his tongue. "Wow, you are really dangerous." He lifted her head slightly and began to place soft kisses along her temple._

_Monica hummed in response. "You worked really hard for this, and I know how much it means to you. It makes me really happy that you are finally excited about your job."_

"_Well, you did have a lot to do with it."_

"_I know."_

"_Anyway, right now I'm excited about what we are going to be doing for the rest of the night."_

"_Really? The rest of the night?"_

"_Or for the next fifteen minutes. Whichever comes first."_

* * *

"Hey, I'm going to go talk to the nurse and see if I can get any new information. I am a doctor too you know."

Chandler looked up at Ross who was standing above him and flashed a skeptical look at him. "Yeah. Maybe tell them about homo erectus. That should grease the wheels."

Ross, already walking away, turned around to nod and give Chandler a thumb's up.

Phoebe leaned over and placed her hand on Chandler's arm. "Hey. So, how are you doing?"

"I really wish people would stop asking me that. I'm not the one who got sick." He winced and shot Phoebe an apologetic look. "Sorry. I'm okay. You sure you don't want to go home and get some rest?"

"No way. I am not leaving until we know she is okay. Mike has little Fee-Bea and he is off all day tomorrow and has plenty of formula for her. I am staying here all night if I have to."

Chandler nodded and looked back down at the floor. "Okay, but you don't have to stay. We can call you when she wakes up."

"Are you kidding me? She would stay if it was one of us. She was there when I had the triplets. She stayed when Rachel had Emma. No sir. I am staying right here."

Chandler smiled and patted Phoebe on the knee. "Thanks. You're right. Funny, I almost forgot all about the time we were all here for Rachel."

* * *

"_I really do want a baby." _

"_You've said that a few times tonight. Its why we're in here."_

"_I know. I just want to make sure you know."_

"_I know." Chandler ran a finger down her neckline and gently massaged her around her clavicle. "I hope the baby gets your freckles."_

_Monica smiled and shook her head. "I can't believe we are doing this."_

"_Well, we've gotten really good at it. This is going to be like the fifth or sixth time we've done it in a closet."_

"_Not that. This. Try to have a baby. Start a family. I'm sorry if I freaked out before. I'm not used to this. I know I should be, but I guess I keep thinking that something is going to happen." _

"_What do you mean?"_

_Monica leaned in and placed a slow kiss on Chandler's lips. She let her mouth linger on his and then pulled back slightly. "I feel so lucky to have found you. I never thought I would ever have this. Be with someone who wants what I want. Sometimes, it doesn't feel real to me. Like any moment I'm going to wake up alone in that hotel room back in London and all of this will have just been a dream." Chandler reached over and pinched her tightly on her side. "Oww!"_

"_Not a dream." Monica raised her hand, mocking that she was going to strike him in retaliation. "Hey! Don't hit the father of your unborn child!" She smiled and leaned in to kiss him again. "Mon. This was never my dream. I never saw marriage and kids in my future. I never thought about stuff like that before. But then, well, London happened, and you happened and it was all I could think about. Us. The future. All of it. It scared me at first, you know. But now, I can't imagine my life any other way. So, if you do wake up, and this was all just a dream, and you find yourself back in London, please come to my room again. My life will not be worth living if I didn't have you."_

_A tear slowly ran down Monica's cheek and she wiped it and then smacked Chandler hard on the chest. "Don't say romantic things like that and make me cry when we are about to have sex on a bucket!"_

* * *

"Mister Bing?"

Chandler shot up from his chair and bounced from foot to foot, unable to contain himself. "Yeah? Doc. Is there anything new?"

"Your wife is awake. She's looking for you."

Chandler covered his mouth with his hand and ran it along his chin. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine. We got her fever down, we performed a D and C. She's in recovery. Why don't you follow me?"

Chandler looked around the waiting room. Phoebe was already wiping tears from her eyes and Jack nodded and raised his fist slowly in celebration. Ross snatched him up in his arms and let out a watery laugh. "See. I told you. She's okay."

Chandler slipped out from Ross's tight grasp and smiled. "Okay, I'll uh, go see her now and then I'll find out what's next. Okay?"

Ross nodded and ran his fingers quickly under his eyes to wipe away a few stray tears.

As Chandler followed the doctor through the labyrinth of hallways in the hospital, he ran his hands through his hair and tried to keep a straight face. He had no idea what condition Monica was going to be in and all he could think was that he had to be in control of his emotions. She was going to need him.

The doctor stopped and pointed. "Okay, she is right in there."

Chandler nodded in response and stepped over towards her door and stood still for a moment. He needed to prepare himself before he walked in. He needed to figure out what he was going to say.

* * *

_Chandler closed the door behind him and looked down on the floor. He wondered to himself if this was really going to be it. Were they really going to follow the New York rule? Could they really throw away this amazing thing they had just found between them? _

_He spun around and faced her door. This can't be the end. It was too good to be over. He had to try. They had to figure out what they could be. There was no way he could go back to being the man he was before that night. No way. He just had to figure out what to say._

_He was taking too much time. The moment was going to pass and he was going to look like an idiot. How long was he standing out here? Right now, it feels like it has been an eternity. He can't wait too long. He has to do something. This can't be over. He has to go back in there and tell her he doesn't want this to end. No matter what happens next, and where this leads them. It can't be over. _

_He looked down at his watch and realized he never set it back to New York time when they landed. He was still on London time. He was still on London time._

* * *

Chandler stepped out into the entranceway of Monica's room and saw her lying in the bed with her face turned towards the far wall. He wasn't sure if he should walk in and disturb her if she was resting. He exhaled deeply and leaned up against the frame of the doorway.

Monica turned to face him. He could tell; she had been crying, but she still smiled when she saw him, and instinctively he smiled back. She lifted her arm and reached out her hand, beckoning him to come to her. He took a deep breath and nodded as he slowly walked into the room.

He did not know what he was going to say, but he knew that he would be whatever she needed him to be. If she wanted to talk, they would talk. If she wanted him to make her feel better, he would make her feel better. And if she just needed to be quiet and sad for little while, then he would be quiet and sad for a little while with her.


	25. Running Uphill

**Running Uphill**

For as long as she can remember, Monica has always had to deal with adversity in her life. It started for her from a very young age, when she would vie for her parent's attention and approval. Even as children, their adoration seemed to be reserved only for her brother. It was as if, without any effort on his part, he was bestowed this gift of unconditional love and support from them, while Monica had to scratch and claw for the slightest hint of approval from her mother and father. Yet, she was undeterred in her endeavors to win their favor, and on the rare occasion that she would succeed, made all her efforts worthwhile.

The struggle to have her worth recognized continued through her teen years as she gained weight and felt the burning stares of everyone around her. Always judging her on how she looked and not on what she could accomplish. It did not help that she was surrounded by thin, beautiful girls like Rachel in high school. She would watch her best friend have everything she wanted fall into her lap. Handsome boyfriend, extravagant gifts, good grades that Monica knew she did not earn herself; all fell at her feet like gifts. Monica did not get to be so lucky, having to work hard just to get the courage to find a boy to take her to the prom. She was tired of her physical appearance overshadowing her fortitude. She was tired of being called fat and nothing more. So, she worked hard, and stayed disciplined, and she lost the weight. She had hoped that would be her final hurdle to leap over.

Culinary school proved that to be wrong, and being skinny, was not the end to her struggles. Now, instead of being dismissed and ignored due to her weight, she felt as if she was not being taken seriously because of her new found beauty. She spent just as much time fighting off unwanted advances from her overbearing classmates (and one very inappropriate instructor) as she did working on her cooking techniques. She found that being a woman in what was surprisingly, a male dominated field, created new obstacles for her. Watching lesser students gain favor from the class instructors spurred her on in her commitment to become the very best chef in her class. She studied late into the night, practicing her knife skills and memorizing recipes. She worked hard to elevate herself to the top of the class, and upon graduation, she had thought that all of her diligence would finally pay off. Unfortunately, the universe seemed to like to watch Monica struggle, and instead of being rewarded for persevering, she discovered she had more hills to climb.

Her culinary career was a long and arduous path of terrible jobs, lecherous employers and abusive coworkers. She struggled to find anything that was even remotely related to the field she dreamed of having success in. Living paycheck to paycheck as she went from one failed job opportunity to the next. Even at her lowest point, while she was dancing to "YMCA" on the counter of the Moondance Diner, she knew her diligence would pay off. She never lost focus on her ultimate goal. She paid her dues. The only time she wavered was when she stood there, in the kitchen of Allesandro's, covered in marinara sauce, and she wondered if all of her efforts were in vain. Maybe living a life trying to be a good person who worked hard was futile and she would never get what she wanted. Those doubts went away when Joey stepped up, and acted as the sacrificial lamb for her career. She realized in that moment, if she was able to inspire such a selfless act of friendship from another person, then she was doing things the right way. She was getting her well earned rewards.

Unfortunately, she could not say that about her love life, which was not paying off the same dividends as her career finally was. It seemed for a while that she would have to endure a lifetime of lousy dates and uninspiring men. Men who never wanted what she wanted. Men who didn't stick around for more than a couple of weeks. There were men who tricked her into bed, ones who were too immature, too boring, too gregarious. None of them seemed to be someone she could picture spending her life with. Then, in a cruel twist of fate, she had thought she finally found the right man; handsome, smart, mature, kind. He seemed to be everything she thought she desired, until she realized that, he did not envision the same future for them as she had. She thought for a brief moment, that she could live with that, but she knew that she could not. Monica's entire life has been about fighting for what she wants. Struggling to prove that she was worth more than what life was trying to entice her to settle with. Her dreams were worth more than to be cast out because it was the easy thing to do. After that, she lost her way for a while, and she began to question everything she had done. Yet, in the most unlikely of fashions, her tenacity paid off. She found the perfect man for her, and he proved worth every sacrifice she had ever made.

They wanted to start a family, and no matter how well she lived and how many times she did the right thing, it seemed fate was always going to twist the knife and never let up on the pressure. Ever since she was a young girl, Monica had a three-point plan. Dream job as a head chef. Find the love of her life. Have as many children as physically possible. Surround herself with success, love and happiness. When she found out that conceiving her own child was nearly impossible, she thought she was going to break. She began to wonder again, if she was doing everything wrong and was somehow being punished. That night, while she and her husband shared their grief in a tight embrace, she was once again rewarded with a sign that all her persistence was paying off. She picked the right man to give her heart to, and he said the right things and she knew, they would be okay. She knew they would figure it out.

The very next morning she made the follow-up appointment with Dr. Connelly. There was no time to waste. She started putting together a binder that had all the information on every possible option to have a baby that they had at their disposal. She knew, that if they were going to overcome this obstacle, that she would need to attack it like she had done to every other hill she has had to climb. Claw. Scratch. Fight. Persevere. Don't settle. Don't compromise. Even then, she considered it some miraculous gift that they got the twins. She forgot about how hard she had worked to make this happen and allowed the moment to wash over her. She finally had everything she ever wanted. All of her hard work and resolve and consistency paid off. She was finally reaping the rewards for living a life of generosity, caring, and sacrificing her own happiness to take care of others. She finally had the life she fought so hard for, and she truly believed that she had earned everything she had.

She did have everything. A wonderful husband. Two beautiful babies. A loving and warm home. Her own restaurant. Life was amazing. It was better than anything she had ever hoped for. And then, it seemed, life wasn't done rewarding her for all her hard work. Because then she got pregnant. She was going to have another baby. Her own baby. She hated herself for thinking that way initially, knowing that the twins are just as much her children as any child she would ever give birth to, but still, there was this rush of excitement that she could not deny. She always wanted to carry her own child. To go through a pregnancy like her friends had before, bonding over the shared experience. She was finally getting that chance that she was so certain was lost to her. And, although it was scary, it felt right. She deserved this. Even though life had already given her so much, she needed to know there was still further recompense for all the adversity and obstacles she had to navigate and endure. She was certain that this was it, her final reward. Everything was perfect, until two months ago, when she lost the baby.

Monica had read all the pamphlets, she looked over the literature her doctor provided. She knows she isn't supposed to say that she "lost" the baby. But she needs to blame someone, and blaming herself feels right. It was stupid of her to get her hopes up. When does anything come easy for Monica? Life has never given her what she wanted. At least, never on the first try.

When they got home from the hospital, Monica couldn't feel much. She was sad and numb at the same time. She knew Chandler could pick up on it. Who couldn't? When you start crying as you're giving your daughter a bath, or sob uncontrollably because you forgot to plug in the toaster. When you look at an expired coupon and it sends you into a rage even if you never intended to use it in the first place. When you can't sleep at night and end up sitting up in the den, looking out the window and watching the street during the twilight hours. When your husband touches you and you recoil as if he did something wrong to you.

She knows that this isn't Chandler's fault. He has been a better husband now then at any other point in their marriage, and he has already been pretty terrific over the last four year. These last two months, neither of them would know what emotion would take her over or when. He would always be there to either take over with the kids, hand her a tissue, or just be her punching bag as she yelled about some small thing that infuriated her beyond reason. She found herself making him the scapegoat for whatever she was feeling at the moment, even when she knew she was just using it as a defense mechanism, trying not to feel the way she was actually feeling deep down inside. Because deep down inside, she felt like a failure. She felt as if she were some flawed woman who could not do the one thing every other woman she has ever known could do. Something they have done without even trying.

Monica wondered if there was something wrong with her. Did she do something to ruin her body? How does it make any sense? They were going to have a baby. They stopped calling the room at the end of the hallway "the spare room" and started calling it "the baby's room". Chandler brought home paint swatches. She was already thinking of names, even though she made sure to keep them to herself this time. They were going to have this baby. They wanted this baby.

In the time that she was pregnant she was cursing it. Tired, nauseous, cranky. She never thought it would end. Now all she can think about is how her feet used to hurt and how she would give anything to feel that ache again. Chandler was almost perfect throughout the pregnancy. It brought out this side of him that she only gets to see in small doses when he is with Jack and Erica. Watching him as he doted on her, they joked that he was going to be her man-slave for the next nine months. Now, she won't let him touch her. She won't talk to him. She won't let him know why she snaps at him or why she has worked late at the restaurant every night since they got home from the hospital.

She knows why she has been avoiding talking to him. She is afraid that he is thinking the same thing she has been thinking ever since that terrible night in the city. She is somehow damaged goods. That she dragged him into her life-long, constant struggle against all odds to achieve her dreams. That he now has to face all the same adversity she does, through no fault of his own, but simply because he loves her.

So, she escapes to the restaurant. She does not want to be reminded about how she failed. She can't take looking him in the eye when he tries to comfort her or take some of the burden from off her shoulders. It only makes her realize more now than ever, that maybe, she doesn't deserve him or the twins or this wonderful life they have made together. That whatever has been wrong with her ever since she was a little girl trying to get her parents approval, is still there inside her.

Monica looks out the window and stares for a few minutes at her husband and children playing in the yard. Last month Jack finally caught up with Erica and started walking. It was a bright moment in what has been a tough time for them. She watches him as he chugs along on his little stubby legs, chasing after his father with his arms stretched out. Erica close behind. Ever since Jack took those first few steps, he can't be stopped. Just a few minutes ago, he and Erica were speeding around the kitchen, stomping their feet and squealing at each other. Chandler saw how the noise was driving her crazy and threw on their shoes and summer jackets and took them outside, just so Monica would have some peace and quiet that she didn't even ask for, but that he knew she needed.

The problem with quiet lately for Monica is that it is never peaceful. Her mind starts to fire off all those doubts and insecurities and thoughts of failure. She looks over at her keys hanging from a hook under the telephone. The only time that she can shut everything out is when she is working. Preparing a meal. Plating a dish. It is all she had been doing these last few weeks. Working around the clock, staying in the kitchen, making dish after dish and avoiding talking to people at all costs. She could pretend that there is an emergency at the restaurant right now. That they need her. That she has to run out and she could bury herself in work. Even if she comes back later tonight, and the twins would already be asleep, and she would feel guilty for abandoning her husband and she would feel like a failure all over again, it would be worth it. This way, at least, for a few hours, she could block all that out and feel useful again.

Monica is startled out of her melancholy when she hears a persistent knock on the front door. She frowns as she looks at the clock and she makes her way out of the kitchen and down the hallway to answer; silently dreading another surprise visit from Rachel or Ross. She knows that they mean well, but having their sympathetic faces hanging around her only reminds Monica of what they were able to do so easily by accident and what she clearly could not do no matter how hard she tried. What she may never be able to do, no matter how much she wishes she could.

The doctor made it clear how slim their chances were, even after prescribing her medication to help control the irregular levels of bacteria in her uterus. He let them know that after a month or so they could start trying for another baby, but that all the roadblocks that were in their way before she became pregnant were still there. That the chances of conceiving their own child was still very low. They both knew that already; they were both calling their little nugget "the miracle baby". They knew her getting pregnant the first time was like winning the lottery. Nobody wins the lottery twice.

Now, with the mood that was brewing inside her, the last thing she needed was to see her perfect brother and her perfect best friend and their perfect effortless life. She sighs as she opens the door and steps back in surprise when she finds Nora Bing standing on her front step.

"Monica, dear. How are you?"

"Oh, uh, I'm okay. Come on in, Chandler's out back with the twins."

"That's all right. I'm here to see you anyway."

"I was actually just going to step out to the restaurant."

"They can survive a little while without you, can't they dear?"

Monica sighs and shrugs her shoulders as she leads her mother-in-law back into the kitchen. "Do you want coffee or tea? I might have some cheese or something I can throw together if you're hungry."

"Tea is fine. Why don't you let me help."

"I can handle making tea!" Monica shrinks a bit into herself and shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I've just been under a lot of stress."

"I know sweetheart. That's why I'm here. I wanted to see how you were doing."

"I appreciate that, I just don't know what else I can say anymore. I'm fine. I'll be fine." Monica turns on a flame under the tea kettle and walks back over to the table to sit down.

Nora reaches out and take her by the hand. "I know you will dear, but just so you know, it is okay not to be fine too."

Monica lifts her head and nods weakly. "I know."

Nora sits back and smooths out her shirt as she studies Monica's face. "Chandler wasn't my first pregnancy."

Monica looks up sharply as her eyes widen with surprise. "What?"

"Charles and I had a stillbirth a couple of years before Chandler was born. She was a girl and we were going to name her Sylvia. Well, Charles was going to name her Sylvia." Nora looks off to the side and chuckles to herself. "I should have known then."

Monica smiles nervously, and not knowing how to properly react, decides to get up and switch off the teapot. "Does Chandler know?"

"No. We never spoke of it. I think that is why Charles stuck around for so long after he finally came to terms with his sexuality. I think he felt like he owed me a child. The strange thing is, when I finally became pregnant again, I didn't let myself feel anything. I was so afraid that I was somehow the reason that we lost Sylvia that I was certain I was going to lose Chandler too. I was not going to let myself go through that kind of depression again. I refused to accept that I was going to have a healthy baby. I wouldn't even discuss names until after he was born."

Monica brings over two cups of tea and Nora begins to dip her bag in and out of the hot water slowly, focusing on her own movements. "My therapist thinks that is why I had always been so distant and cold with Chandler. I was afraid he would disappear too. Even after he was born."

Monica sits back in her chair and slowly shakes her head. "I had no idea. You should tell him this."

"No, its too late for that. Too much time has gone by." Nora looks out towards the backyard and shakes her head. She returns her focus to Monica and smiles. "Anyway, you have done such a great job fixing all my mistakes with him, I couldn't do that now, and make you have to fix him all over again."

"I don't know if I fixed him."

Nora stands up and takes Monica by the hand, walking her over to the sliding glass doors. "Look at him." Nora points out at her son rolling around on the grass with his two children. "That is not the boy I sent away to school. That isn't the young man I gave some money to all those years ago when he found his own apartment and started living across the hall from you."

Monica runs her finger under her eye to wipe a tear and lets out a watery chuckle. "I don't know, I think I actually caught him and Joey doing this exact thing outside the building one day."

Nora turns Monica towards her and hugs her. "I broke him and left you with the insecure mess he had become. Look out there now. You found this man inside the boy that no one else saw. Not even me. I don't recognize that man, and I am so glad that I don't. You did that. I don't know if I could ever repay you properly. Don't ever doubt yourself. At the very least, always know that you are one of my favorite people."

Monica leans into the hug and smiles as her head rests on Nora's shoulder. Drinking in every bit of her praise. "I don't think I have ever had a mom like me before."

Nora chuckles. "You are a powerful force of nature Monica. Don't do what I did. I ran away and never came back."

Monica smiles and pulls back from the hug. "You have to talk to Chandler about this."

Nora smiles warmly at Monica. "Are you telling me what to do now?"

"Telling people what to do is kind of my thing."

* * *

Monica steps out of the shower and quickly wraps a towel around her body. She takes a second towel and starts to dry her hair as she watches her husband brush his teeth. He leaned over to spit and wipes his mouth, and before he could put the hand towel back down, she pushes it away and crashes her lips onto his. At first, he is startled at the intensity of her embrace, but he quickly surrenders to her desires and allows himself to bathe in her passion. Monica pulls back, leaving her arms up around his neck and slowly smiles at him.

"Where did that come from?"

"I like fresh minty breath."

"I'll brush ten times a day from now on."

Monica laughs and then kisses him again, parting his lips with her tongue. They stand there by the bathroom vanity, exploring each other's mouth as if it was their first time. Monica finally pulls back again to come up for air. "I don't remember the last time that I really kissed you and I really wanted to kiss you."

Chandler smiles and tilts his head. "I am always available for this."

Monica chuckles but then looks down for a moment. "I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about."

"Yes I do. This didn't just happen to me, it happened to both of us, and I was stuck in my own space and never checked to make sure you were okay, and you never complained. I feel like I am letting you down." She looks up at him and Chandler offers her a warm smile as his response. "Am I still one of your favorite people?"

"What? oh, come here." He wraps his arms around her to pull her into a tight hug, letting his hands run up and down her back as his fingers drag over the materiel of the towel. "You know what was the best thing I ever got to do?" Monica shakes her head and peeks up to make eye contact with him. "When I came back from talking to Erica at the adoption agency and told you she agreed to give us her baby. You were so worried and sad and the way your face lit up when I got to tell you." Monica looks back down and slips one of her hands from around him so she could wipe a tear that was forming under her eye. "I just thought, man, if I could do that, if I could make you feel that good all the time, that would be something. But now you've been so sad, and I can't help you and I feel so useless. Making you smile, it makes my life worth living. These last two months, I started wondering if maybe I never should have come back after London, and maybe you would be better off with someone else who wouldn't have put you through all this."

Monica looks up at her husband with stern eyes. "Honey, you are so stupid. Never, ever think that. There is no one else in the world that I could have survived all of this with. No one." She looks off to the side and then smiles as she returns her gaze to her husband. "I love you, and, uh, no matter what surprises come our way, I will always love you. You're the person I was meant to spend the rest of my life with."

Chandler shakes his head and laughs as he pulls one of his hands up and wipes a tear from his eye. "That's not fair."

"I know."

Chandler releases her from his embrace and starts to pace back and forth in the small bathroom. He lets his hands run through his hair as he stammers, in search of the right words to say. "Look, I was thinking, I know the doctor said that we should have everything under control and it should be safe, but if there is even a chance this could happen again and you could get sick like that, I can't go through that again. I won't last a day without you, so, uh, I was thinking that maybe I should look into getting a vasectomy or maybe you should start taking birth control pills again. And, uh, you know, maybe if you think you have to talk to somebody about all this, and that person is not me, that's okay too, but then I was thinking…"

Monica puts her hands on his shoulders to steady him and stop him from pacing. "Chandler. Stop it!" Chandler looks up at her, still a bundle of nervous energy, as his eyes dart around her face. Monica presses her lips against his once again to calm him. "I have been thinking a lot too, and I want another baby. I think we should adopt again."


	26. Finally, Family

**Finally, Family**

There have been a few occasions throughout the years when Monica thought that she might actually murder her husband. This was not some empty hyperbolic reaction. She contemplated literally murdering him. When she did have these fleeting, momentary homicidal fantasies, she wondered if anyone would turn her in or if any judge and jury would ever declare her to be guilty, if they found out exactly what he did to deserve his fate. She was certain that all she had to do was put his demise in context and everyone would nod in agreement that he brought it upon himself.

Chief among his many transgressions were the numerous times she had caught him smoking, long after he swore to her that he would quit. He tried to hide the evidence of his nicotine habit with innumerable sticks of gum and a seemingly endless supply of deodorant aerosol spray cans, but the stench of cigarette smoke was always there, no matter what he did. She would find that foul scent on the collar of his shirt or deep in the fibers of his jacket. She could smell it in his hair and even on the tips of his fingers. No matter how hard he tried to scrub it away, she always found out. Each time he would promise her it was the last time, but that vow would only last until the next time he was caught. No matter how much she cajoled and bribed him or threatened strict punishment, he would eventually break down and smoke again. It was infuriating and made her blood boil.

Shortly after they started to live together, she made a habit of searching the apartment when he was gone. She knew all of his favorite hiding spots, and she prided herself on being able to discover his new one too. Even when they moved out to Westchester, she located his emergency pack taped to the back of the washing machine. Outthinking her husband when it came to his meager attempts to conceal his dirtiest habit was fairly easy. Getting her husband to quit smoking though, was her white whale.

There was also the aggravating habit Chandler had of making jokes at the most inappropriate times that could earn her ire. It did not seem to matter the venue or the audience, if he was feeling uncomfortable, his mouth would start working overtime. Funerals, doctor's visits, in front of her parents, around her coworkers, when they were having dinner with his boss, while they were meeting with the people from the adoption agency, and when they went over their mortgage application with the loan officer at the bank. He simply could not help himself. It was a compulsion, and Monica found that often, it was infuriating.

She would try to block it out at times, and turn his poorly timed jokes into white noise. She would often encourage anyone else present to do the same thing. Yet, every now and then, one of his terrible jokes would get through to her, and most of the time that would happen, those were the jokes that were the most personal and embarrassing. All she could do in the moment was share a quick. mortified glance with whoever they were with and then shoot an admonishing glare at her husband to communicate her frustration with his poor sense of tact.

Then there were the rules he would constantly break. No shoes on the table. Fasten the garbage can lids tight before putting them on the curb so raccoons can't get into them. Don't drink from the milk carton, even if you are finishing off the last of it. Don't sit down on the couch while you are still wearing your sweaty gym clothes. And above all else, always make sure to put the lids of things that you use back on tightly. Each and every one of these sensible and well thought out rules seemed impossible for him to follow consistently, which led to today's transgression, and resulted in Monica wondering if she could get away with smothering him just slightly with his pillow tonight. Not enough to actually hurt him, but just enough to send a message.

Before she had discovered this latest trespass from her husband, Monica was having a wonderful afternoon. She brought the twins to the gymnastics center this morning all by herself, which was a feat unto itself. Two diaper bags, two separate snack bags and sets of bottles. Extra clothes, face wipes, hand wipes, and a few small toys to keep them occupied if one of them lost interest in what the gymnasium had to offer before the other one. Just packing everything up before they left felt like a herculean task.

When she arrived at the gym, she was able to get them both out of their car seats and into the building with relative ease and minimal fussing. The twins ran into the play area with enthusiasm, stumbling around on their stubby little legs as they tried to touch everything in the room. They played wonderfully with each other and the rest of the children who were there today, and Erica even shared a wedge mat she was using as a slide with another little boy. When it was time for a snack and water break, they both sat down next to her patiently and finished everything she offered them to eat and drink before going back out to play once more.

When they got back home, she prepared lunch and tried a few new food items for them to eat; she was pleasantly surprised that they both took to the sliced avocado rather well. After they ate, she took them into the backyard and they took turns on the toddler slide that she and Chandler had purchased over the summer. Once it appeared as if they were losing steam and the two of them started to flash her their half-moon eyelids, she put them both down for a nap. Neither child struggled to stay awake as they normally would, worried that they might miss some earth-shattering event, and instead, they quietly drifted off to sleep.

While Jack and Erica took their nap, she was able to take some time and prepare dinner; salmon with dill sauce, carrots and roasted potatoes. Everything was ready in short order, and all she had to do was heat it up once Chandler got home. She then focused on some meal prep for the twins, ensuring that there was enough food for the two of them for the rest of the week while she was at work. Each container labeled with what meal it was, and how much of it to feed each child.

She took some time and called her mother while she did her work in the kitchen. They talked more about her and Chandler's decision to try and adopt another baby. She was pleasantly surprised at how supportive her mother has been to the idea of them bringing another child into their home. She was certain she would receive the usual Judy Geller passive-aggressive criticisms that seemed to come with every choice she made. She wondered as she hung up the phone, if maybe her mother was finally starting to accept that Monica wasn't some kind of screw up that needed to be saved from her own poor judgment.

Lastly, as naptime came close to an end, Monica started working on putting together her monthly packet for Erica. Every month she would go through photos and pick a few to send to the twins birth-mother with a letter on how they were doing and what milestones they may have achieved. Erica herself was about to start college, and she asked for some advice from Monica and Chandler during the summer, since she didn't know anyone else who had ever gone to college. She had no plans to visit with Jack and Erica, and Monica never pushes her to in any of her letters. Erica has told them that she loves receiving the updates. They have tried to discuss what to do if the kids ever want to meet her when they were older; and the only answer the three of them have been able to come up with, is that they would all talk about it when that day came. Monica was proud of how well she kept in touch with Erica, and she felt as if they were all on the same page for the most part. The three of them, committed to working together, to do what was best for the twins when it came to their adoption. She silently hoped that with whoever the birth mother of their next child would be, that they have just as easy a time getting along with them as they do with Erica.

Just as Monica was about to sign off on this month's letter, she heard a thumping sound coming from upstairs which she assumed was one of the twins waking up and shifting around in their crib. It was just a small noise, but Monica was always on alert, and it was enough to get her attention. Knowing her children and how long it takes for them to wake up from a nap, she had assumed that she had time to finish meticulously packing up the packet for Erica.

Once she was done, she put the envelope aside and made her way to the stairs. When she reached the top step, she heard a shuffling sound that made her nervous. It no longer sounded as if one of the twins was moving around in their crib and more like they were stumbling across the floor.

She nervously flung open the door and her eyes went wide in shock and horror as Jack turned around to face her. He was down on the floor, wrist deep into a tub of Desitin. Her eyes darted around as she noticed little white, creamy handprints all over everything in the room. There was Desitin on the window sill, the walls, the cribs, the floor, the closet door, and on toys that were spread across the room. The worst sight of all was Jack's little face, covered in the sticky white substance. It looked as though he had taken a bath in it.

"Jack! How did you get out of your crib?"

Jack looked up at her and reached out one of his chubby little hands, which was covered in the white, creamy diaper rash lotion.

"Oh Jack. Oh no. This is going to be take forever to clean up! Mama is going to be working on this all night! Who left the lid so loose that you could get into it?"

Jack looked over at the changing table where he retrieved the tub of Desitin and then back at Monica. "Dada."

"That's right. Dada. Because he never…." Suddenly Monica cut herself off and she looked back down at Jack. "Wait. What did you just say? Did you say 'Dada'?"

Jack looked back over towards the changing table and then back at his mother. "Dada."

"Jack, I don't know what I am prouder of, that you just said your first word or that you sold your father out to me, proving that you are on my team!"

* * *

Every time the door to Central Perk opened and a new customer walked in, Chandler turned his head to see who it was. He found it odd that he was slightly on edge, but ever since Phoebe called him at his office and asked him to meet her and Mike here, his mind was racing. While he and Phoebe were good friends, she rarely called him up, let alone arranged to meet with him by himself. Most of their interaction was when they were part of a group. The fact that she added the very cryptic condition, "I need to talk to you before I talk to Monica", led him to worry that something might be wrong.

Finally, as the door opened again for what felt like the one-hundredth time since he got to the coffee house, Mike entered and he smiled when he saw Chandler, offering him a head nod as a greeting. Phoebe was close behind him. She shuffled her feet as she reached the chair next to the couch Chandler had been seated at.

Mike settled down on the arm of the couch and looked over at Phoebe. "I'm telling you that was him!"

"I'm telling you, that I don't really know who you are talking about."

Chandler looked over at the two of them, a slight expression of confusion danced upon his brow. "Hey guys."

Mike spun around to face Chandler, his tone seemed serious, yet excited. "Hey, Chandler. You know who Paul Williams is, right? I think Phoebe and I just walked past him on our way here."

Chandler sat up straight and allowed a giddy chuckle to escape his lips. "Paul Williams? Are you kidding me?"

Phoebe looks at the two of them, completely dumbfounded. She then turned her attention to Chandler as she jabbed her thumb in Mike's direction. "You know who he is talking about?"

Mike shared a condescending look with Chandler and shook his head. Chandler slid over to the edge of his seat and he bounced up and down excitedly. "Are you kidding? You ever hear of an epic movie musical called 'Phantom of the Paradise'?"

Phoebe stared back at him, blankly.

Chandler waved her off and then started to sing. " Roll on thunder, shine on lightning… "

Mike smiled as he nodded and then cut Chandler off as he began to sing the next part. " The days are long and the nights are frightening. "

The two of them shared one more excited glance at each other as they start to sing together. " Nothing matters anyway and that's the hell of it! "

Chandler began to play air guitar as Mike pretended that he was playing keyboards. The two men exaggerated their movements by humming the tune to the song together. Chandler nodded and smiled at Mike. "Oh man, you would have been great in our band back in college."

Phoebe, finally becoming annoyed, slaps her hands down on her legs. "Oh my God! You two have to stop this. Monica was right." Both men looked over at Phoebe, their faces filled with confusion. She exhaled sharply, sat back, and folded her arms. "I just think maybe you two should see other people."

Chandler looked nervously at Mike, but then shook his head at Phoebe. "I can't believe you don't know who Paul Williams is. He wrote so many great songs."

Mike, joined Chandler in his enthusiasms as he tried to tick off the names of the songs he has written. "Evergreen"

Chandler nodded and then held his hand out. "Talk it over in the morning."

Both men looked at each other again and nodded as they each started to sing again. " We've only just begun. "

Chandler rubbed his hands together and sat back. Mike patted him on the shoulder and then looked over at Phoebe. "We should totally have a listening party one day at our place. I can bring out my old record player."

Chandler started to bob his head up and down enthusiastically. "You know what? I still have a whole bunch of vinyl's that Monica made me put in the attic. I bet we could find some real gems there."

"Ooo! We should rent Phantom of the Paradise and watch it!"

Phoebe, finally having enough of their conversation and watching the two men bond of shared interests, huffed out loud. "Mike! Maybe you can get us some coffee and I can talk to Chandler alone for a minute?"

Mike nodded quickly and stood up. "Oh, yeah, okay. Sure. Decaf?"

Phoebe nodded in response. "Yes please."

"Chandler? Anything?"

"No Mike, I'm good. Unless they got a copy of the soundtrack to the Secret of Nimh back there!"

Phoebe shook her head and started to look around the room incredulously. "What did I marry into?"

Mike walked away towards the counter and Chandler sat up on the edge of the couch again. "So, uh, Pheebs, you wanted to talk?"

Phoebe got up from the chair and sat down next to Chandler on the couch. "Yes. Look, I know what you and Monica went through…and well…"

Chandler broke eye contact with Phoebe and nodded slowly. "Yeah. I know."

"Anyway, I didn't know how to talk about this, or how to tell you guys, but, well, I'm pregnant again."

Chandler sat back as he turned his eyes up to her again. "Oh. Uh, wow. So soon?"

"What?"

"Didn't you just have Fiona?"

"You mean Fee Bea?"

"Yeah."

"She'll be a year old in a couple of months, and we didn't plan for this, but, well, I guess I'm just really fertile. You know, I was born during the goddess moon."

Chandler rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Oh, well, sure, that explains it."

"Anyway, I wasn't sure how to tell Monica. She means so much to me. You know how much I lover her, and I want to share this with her but I'm worried that she might, uh.."

"Get sad?"

Phoebe reluctantly nodded as she looked down. "Yeah."

Chandler took her hand in his and gently pat it. "Well, Pheebs, she probably will be sad at first, but she loves you, and in the end she'll be really happy for you just like I am right now."

Phoebe let out a slow smile, displaying a vulnerability that Chandler had not seen often in all the years that they have been friends. "Really?"

"Yes." Chandler gave her a tight hug and Phoebe smiled at their embrace. "Congratulations Phoebe, I am really happy for you guys." They pull apart and Phoebe quickly wiped away a tear that had started to form under her eye. "You know what. Why don't you and Mike come over for dinner this weekend. You can bring Fiona…"

Phoebe sternly cut him off. "Fee Bea!"

Chandler sighed and shook his head. "Fine. Fee Bea. Anyway, you could tell Monica that night over dinner."

"Yeah? You think that's a good idea?"

"Sure I do. Anyway, we will probably have a laugh about it once we realize what you guys are in store for. You and Mike will be joining our club and having two little ones at the same time. It'll be so much fun watching the both of you lose your minds."

Phoebe laughed and pat his hand with her own. She let her hand linger on his as she smiled up at him. "Thanks. I didn't know who else to talk to." The two of them sat quietly for a moment as they waited for Mike to return with their drinks. Phoebe looked around the room and then turned back to Chandler and smiled. "You know, I really hope you two get to adopt again soon. I'm so happy you both decided to do that. Any baby would be lucky to have the two of you as their parents."

"Thanks Pheebs. The idea of adding another baby with the twins is kind of scary, but it feels right to us."

"It's nice, isn't it?"

Chandler flashed a quizzical look at her. "What's nice?"

"To finally have a family. You and I, we never really had that before."

Chandler smiled and nodded. "Yeah. It is nice."

* * *

When Chandler walked into the front door, he could immediately smell the delicious aroma of whatever Monica had been cooking for dinner. He took off his suit jacket and placed it on the back of the chair in the living room as he slowly made his way towards the kitchen. "Mon?"

He then heard his wife's voice call to him from upstairs. "Chandler? Is that you? You have to come up here now!"

Chandler looked around the room nervously and then jogged upstairs. "Where are you?"

"The twins' room. Hurry!"

Chandler briskly walked over and gently pushed open the door to Jack and Erica's room. He quickly made eye contact with Monica and tilted his head in confusion. "What's going on?"

Monica lifted Jack from the changing table and looked over at Chandler. "Jack, do you know who that is?" Jack remained silent as he looked at Monica. "Come on Jackie boy, you said it before." She then turned her attention towards Chandler. "He did it earlier today and I wanted to surprise…" her eyes dropped down as she stopped talking and she fixated her stare at her husband's shoes. "Why are you still wearing your shoes?"

Chandler looked down at himself. "What?"

Monica started to gesture angrily at his feet. "You're still wearing your shoes. We agreed, no shoes on the second floor. Now you probably tracked dirt all over the carpet."

"I'm confused. Is this what you called me up here for?"

Monica huffed as she blew some hair out of her face and shifted Jack in her arms. "No. I wanted to show you that Jack knows who the messy one in the house is, the one who can't seem to follow all the rules."

Chandler smirked and began to remove his shoes. "Oh yeah? Who might that be?"

Jack, gripped at Monica's shirt and then turned his head towards his father. "Dada."

* * *

A/N – Just some timeline stuff: Phoebe gave birth to her first daughter in December of 2004. Monica had her miscarriage at the beginning of June 2005. So, in this story, it is now mid-August 2005.


	27. Dead Letter Office

**Dead Letter Office**

Monica slipped her coat on and turned around to look at her sous chef, Javier. "You sure you're okay with finishing up tonight?"

Javier nodded, without looking up from his task, as he drizzled balsamic glaze over the three cuts of pork loin that were fanned out on the plate before him. "We should be fine."

Monica pulled her keys out of her purse and craned her neck so she could take one more look at the customers in the lobby. Satisfied that everything looked to be under control she let out a deep breath and turned to leave. "Okay. I'm only fifteen minutes away, so don't hesitate to call my cell phone if something comes up."

"I promise you, we will take care of everything tonight. Don't worry."

Monica nodded one more time and then stepped out the backdoor that led into the parking lot. She pulled out a small, yellow notepad from her coat pocket and looked at it as she approached her car. Her eyes fell to the next two bullet points that she had scribbled down the night she and Chandler decided to adopt again.

"3 – Reference Letters. 4 – Home Study".

She kept this short list on her at all times. Constantly referencing it, whenever she found herself with a minute to spare, as she would fill out paperwork or organize financial records. Even though Monica now knew what would be involved with the adoption process this time around, she still worried that they would not be properly prepared when the time came to hand everything in. She looked down at the pad one more time before placing it in her purse and ran her finger across the page, drawing an invisible line under "reference letter". She smiled and then got into her car and started the engine.

Monica had been focusing much of her attention on the adoption lately, but ever since she and Chandler had dinner with Phoebe and Mike, when they announced that Phoebe was pregnant again, a fire grew inside Monica's belly. She was determined to dive into the adoption process head on and get on that waiting list faster than anyone else had in the history of adoption. She did not want to waste any time. There was a baby out there that was going to need a home, and she could think of no home better than the one she and Chandler have made together.

She became fixated on her new objective in every spare moment she could find. Even tonight, when she noticed the dinner crowd waning, she immediately thought about something she could be doing to achieve her goal. She knew that the rest of the evening would be manageable for her staff, so she decided to duck out early. Go home, break out the binder and start organizing the copies of the reference letters she had already received from Ross and Mike earlier in the week.

She looked down at a letter that was resting on the passenger seat and touched with her fingertips. She was pleasantly surprised when it arrived with the rest of the mail at work today. She knew that this was, perhaps, the most important letter they would receive. This unassuming, little thing that was lying there next to her, folded neatly inside the envelope.

She was amazed at how quickly it came. It was only a few days ago when she solicited it from the sender. She knew that the speed in which it was completed meant that the author of the letter treated it with great importance. Monica felt slightly guilty, having it delivered to the restaurant instead of to her house, but she had to ensure she got it before Chandler did, so she could be there when he read it for the first time. She needed to provide context for the identity of the person who sent it and what the letter was truly about. Of course, Monica had already read the letter a few times. She was never going to be able to wait until she got home. She had to know what was inside. She chuckled to herself and she thought how funny it was, that this all started because of a conversation about Chandler's lousy taste in food.

* * *

_Monica was able to leave the restaurant early, it was Monday, and it has proven to be their slowest night during the fall months. She was toying with the idea of closing the restaurant entirely on Mondays and save some money on the overhead required to operate the business for one day, especially with such a low percentage of ever seeing a return on that investment. That was a conversation though, for another day. Tonight, she was going to surprise her family and join them for dinner and bath time. Something she had not been able to do since early last week._

_When she entered the house, she heard music playing from the den. She looked around, but found no one in there, although the mess of toys strewn about the room let her know that her family was occupying that space at some point today. She was about to call out, when her ears pricked up as she heard what sounded like her husband's voice, coming from the kitchen. Moreover, it sounded like he was singing._

_She slowly crept down the hall and peeked inside to see the twins, sitting in their highchairs, distracted with some sliced fruit and yogurt. She shook her head, aghast at how messy their faces were. She knew she shouldn't be too shocked though; sticky babies had become fairly standard when Chandler was in charge of mealtime. Monica was always ready with a face wipe to quickly clean a dribbled chin or wet fingers. Chandler, on the other hand, seemed content to let them wear more food on their faces than they ate._

_She folded her arms and leaned against the frame to the entryway as she turned her attention to her husband. Chandler had his back to her while he worked on whatever he was making on the stove. He was singing, but he obviously did not know the words, as most of the sounds from his mouth were mumbles and hums as he tried to hold a tune. He stopped and turned off the burner on the stove. "I'll tell you guys, this Steely Dan CD your uncle Mike lent me is really good. He was right, they are pretty great." He started to sing nonsensical words again and Monica had to cover her mouth to suppress a laugh. "I'm almost done here with my masterpiece. Now don't tell your mother because I don't know if she wants me to share this with you, but as long as she isn't here, we should be free and clear."_

_Monica decided to take this opportunity to clear her throat and she quietly giggled as she saw Chandler stiffen up._

_"Or, you guys could let her sneak in the house and not tell me so I get in trouble."_

_"You don't need them to get you into trouble, you do that pretty well on your own." Monica stepped into the kitchen and turned to smile at Jack and Erica, who were still shoving broken pieces of fruit into their mouths._

_Erica was the first to react as she stretched her hand out towards Monica. "Mama!" Jack kept his focus on his food, and grunted as his fingers made their way into his mouth._

_Monica snatched the container of wipes from the kitchen table and pulled one out as she sat down next to Erica. She quickly cleaned her hands and face and then placed a kiss on her daughter's head. "Hello there, baby girl. Do I get a mama from you Jack?"_

_Jack turned his head and glanced at Monica, but quickly looked back down as he tried to master using his spoon so he could cram more yogurt into his mouth. "Food always comes first, huh, Jack?"_

_Chandler laughed. "I guess he takes after…"_

_Monica cut her husband off as she wagged her finger at him. "Don't say it!" She turned her attention back to her son and started to wipe Jack's face as he fussed and tried to dodge the wet cloth. "So, what is this mystery meal that you are cooking up for your children behind my back?"_

_Chandler turned around sheepishly as he held to pot in his hand and lifted the wooden spoon out of it. "My specialty." He reluctantly tilted the pot down so she could see the contents inside._

_Monica immediately screwed up her face in disgust as her nose twitched. "Ugh. Macaroni and cheese with hot dogs?"_

_Chandler returned the pot to the stove and placed the spoon down next to the sink. Monica shuddered a bit, as she noted he did not use a spoon rest. "It was this or grilled cheese."_

_Monica huffed. "Chandler! I have meals set up for you in the freezer. All you have to do is follow the instructions for it. I even labeled them for each day." She stood up and walked over to the refrigerator. She slid the door to the freezer open and started to pull out small tins of food. "Lasagna, beef stew, chicken legs, eggplant. Why did you insist on making that terrible concoction?"_

_"I wanted to share one of my favorite meals with the kids. You used to make it for me."_

_"That was before we got married and I could legally tell you what to eat." Monica put the frozen food back into the freezer and slowly closed the door. "I don't want the kids to eat that yet. I've got their food set up in the fridge." She opened the door and started to point at different containers that were neatly arranged on the shelf. "Sweet potatoes, corn, green beans, this one has apples and chicken in it. They start eating that junk they'll never eat the healthy stuff again."_

_Chandler reached into a cabinet and pulled down four bowls. "Oh come on. I grew up on this stuff and I'm pretty healthy."_

_"You get winded when you take the garbage cans out to the curb."_

_"Our driveway is very long!"_

_Monica looked at the bowls that Chandler had set aside. "What are you doing? Those aren't the right bowls. You have to use the small plastic Sesame Street bowls." She pushed him aside gently and reached into the cabinet. "Here. Just give them the mac and cheese, lets hold off on hot dogs, okay?" Chandler grumbled as he reluctantly nodded._

_Monica leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thank you."_

_"Do you want any?"_

_"No, I ate at the restaurant before I left. Plus, I really hate that. How can you eat it?"_

_"Are you kidding? I survived my entire childhood on this stuff."_

_"I can't believe Ross let you cook this in the room. He hates how it smells when you boil hot dogs."_

_Chandler carefully spooned out some macaroni and placed a small portion in each of the two bowls Monica had set aside for Jack and Erica. "What? Oh no, I was making this long before college."_

_"Really?"_

_Chandler walked across the kitchen and placed the bowls in front of Jack and Erica as he offered up a crooked smile to them. "Eat up kids!"_

_Erica prodded at the contents of the bowl for a few seconds, her face almost matched Monica's as she eyed the food suspiciously. Jack looked up at his father. "Eee! Eee!" and started to shovel the cheese covered pasta into his mouth._

_Monica sat down next to them and pulled the bowl away from Jack and grabbed his spoon. "Jack! Not so much. Slow down!" She wiped his chin with a wet cloth and then offered him a piece of macaroni from the spoon. "So, when did you create this masterpiece?"_

_Chandler turned around and leaned up against the counter. "I think I ate this for the first time when I was nine? Maybe ten."_

_"Really? Is that why this is one of your favorites? Because your mom made this for you when you were a kid."_

_Chandler smiled slowly as he looked down. Monica instantly recognized this smile. It was the smile Chandler flashed her when he was trying to downplay something that made him angry or sad. He has used this smile many times with her. Always trying to reassure her he was fine, or that whatever he was going to say did not mean too much to him, when in fact, it was usually the opposite. Every time she saw that smile, it only made her worry more about him._

_"No, my mom wasn't exactly the cooking dinner at home kind of mom."_

_Monica kept her focus on feeding Jack and only offered her husband a quiet, "Oh" in response._

_"When my mom and dad got divorced, and dad moved away, I was, kind of on my own most days. At least I was until my mom finally sent me off to boarding school. I couldn't really make much as far as food was concerned, but boxed mac and cheese and hot dogs were easy. Grilled cheese and pasta too." Chandler slowly served himself some food and brought it over to the table._

_Monica reached over and took his hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."_

_He looked up at his wife with that same crooked smile he always flashed when he tried to cover up something that was bothering him. He in turn could see the concern in her eyes and tried his best to reassure her he was fine. "What? Oh, it wasn't that bad. I had the whole place to myself. It was a blast. Do you know how many kids would have killed to be able to eat macaroni and cheese every day while they stayed up late watching R rated movies all night?"_

_Monica tilted her head sympathetically and then leaned over to give her husband a kiss. She then looked down at his bowl. "So, you never ate any vegetables?"_

_"I made popcorn. Corn is a vegetable? Right?"_

* * *

Monica pulled into the driveway, and before shutting off the engine, she turned the radio and heat off. She hated when Chandler drove because he would leave everything on. Then, in the morning, when she started the car, cold air would blow out of the vents onto her while the radio loudly played some classic rock song from the local station. Every time without fail. Sometimes, if it rained the night before, the windshield wipers would begin to sway back and forth, creating an unpleasant sound as the rubber edge dragged along the windshield. Why he couldn't see how much more efficient it was to do it her way, and shut everything off when he got home, was beyond her.

She collected her things and then reached into her purse to pull out her house keys. She was glad to be home, and couldn't wait to change out of her work clothes and finish up the adoption paperwork. She reached over and picked up the letter she had placed on the passenger seat. "You're going to work. You have to."

She looked down at it one more time and then smiled as she slid the paper out and unfolded it. She took her time reading it, knowing how much care the author put into writing it. She found that it was awkward at first, when she asked them to write this for her. She wasn't sure if she was actually going to go through with it when she finally reached out to talk to them. Monica has always been determined to get what she wants, but she was also never too comfortable being forceful with people that she wanted to like her.

She frowned a bit, wondering what would happen if everyone discovered her devious plan. If they realized she was being deceitful, would they be angry, even though in the end, it made everything better? She wasn't sure. All she did know, was that when she read this letter, it made her heart melt.

* * *

_Chandler was washing up the dishes and Monica joined him to dry. She noticed as she placed a plate back into the cabinet that he was still quietly humming the song he was playing earlier when she got home. She couldn't help but nudge him playfully as she smiled. "You and Mike really seem to be hitting it off."_

_"I know. I don't really want a new friend. Who has time for that? But he lent me his VHS copy of 'Kiss Meets the Phantom of the Park'. I haven't seen that since I was a kid."_

_"Well, Phoebe certainly is thrilled you guys like so many of the same things."_

_"Really? Aww."_

_"No. Not really. It is killing her to think she married a Chandler clone."_

_"Oh, okay. Ouch."_

_Monica chuckled and ran her hand up and down his arm reassuringly. "Oh no sweetie. I didn't mean it like that. It's just, well you know Phoebe. She likes to think she is unique, and finding out that her husband is pretty much just like any other husband is bumming her out."_

_"She probably makes him do weird sex stuff though to compensate."_

_"We are not having sex in the car."_

_Chandler frowned and continued rinsing off some cutlery. "Okay."_

_Monica looked over her shoulder at her children who seemed content to sit and play in their high chairs. "Did you already give them a bath?"_

_"No. Why would I give them a bath before dinner?"_

_"Well if you haven't given them a bath, then why is Jack wearing his pajama top?"_

_Chandler turned his head to look at his son. "That's not his pajama top. That's his lion shirt."_

_"Uh, no. That's his lion pajama top. What drawer did you get them out of?"_

_"The, uh, drawer, that had clothes in it."_

_"Do you need me to go over the system with you again?"_

_"Are you telling me that he has a lion on a regular shirt and a lion on his pajama top? That's just setting me up to fail."_

_Monica sighed heavily and reached her hand out for another clean plate to dry. "So, uh, about before. Did you make yourself dinner a lot when you were a kid?"_

_Chandler nodded. "Pretty much every night. My dad was gone and my mom always had something. An interview, a book signing, a date. Sometimes she would have to go out of town for a few nights."_

_"Didn't anyone watch you?"_

_"I was pretty good at taking care of myself. I even did my own laundry."_

_"I saw how you did laundry when you first moved into the building. You must have been a disaster."_

_Chandler shrugged his shoulders. "Well, my clothes were probably what Rachel would call shabby chic."_

_"Or maybe just shabby." Monica looked down at the plate she was drying and sniffled a bit. Chandler looked over and put his arm around her. "Hey, what's wrong."_

_"I don't know. I guess, that it just makes me sad. To think of you, that young, all on your own all the time." She turned around to look at Jack and Erica again._

_"Hey. That's not going to happen to them."_

_She let out a watery chuckle and leaned her head against him. "I worry sometimes with how much I work at the restaurant and then if we get another baby…"_

_Chandler cut her off with a kiss to the side of her forehead. "Being busy is not the same as not being around."_

_"Maybe your mom thought that too. Maybe she just thought she was busy."_

_"It was different. With my mom, it was more like we were roommates. She didn't really have that motherly instinct. You're not like that. You're a great mom. You kiss away bumps and wipe noses and do all that stuff my mom never did."_

_Monica nodded slowly and then placed the dish towel down on the counter. "Have you ever talked to her about that?"_

_"What? No. Anyway, I think she likes it this way too. She's like a cool aunt instead of a mom. She comes and goes at her own convenience. You're not worried about me, are you? I won't be like her. I'll make sure they know how much they mean to me. How much you all mean to me. I hope I do that now."_

_Monica rolled her eyes. "Of course, you do. I just wish you weren't so obnoxious about it at times, but we know. Are you saying you didn't know back then how much you meant to your mother?"_

_"Sometimes, I don't really know right now if I mean anything to her."_

_Monica brought her hand up to her face and studied her husband as he washed out a drinking glass. She then looked over at the children once more. "They're really lucky to have you."_

_Chandler smiled and looked down at the empty sink. "I'm the lucky one."_

_Monica kissed his shoulder. "We are all lucky." She straightened up and wiped under her eyes. "Hey, why don't you get the kids upstairs for their bath and I'll join you in a few minutes."_

_"Sure. Maybe when they go to bed, we can have a bath of our own, minus the tub and the water." Monica looked at him, her eyes expressing how confused she was at his words. "I'm asking for s-e-x."_

_"Ahh, okay. Did not get that."_

_Chandler walked over and disconnected the trays from the two high-chairs. "Okay, who wants to walk upstairs and who wants to be carried?" Erica immediately demanded to be put down on the floor with a series of frustrated grunts. Jack reached his arms up to his father, always preferring to be carried._

_Monica chuckled. "Who would have guessed it."_

_She listened as they slowly shambled up the stairs. Chandler was holding Erica's hand as she tried to navigate the steps. Jack was holding his arms tightly around his father's neck. Chandler called down, affecting his voice to make it sound as if he were being choked. "You're coming up soon right?"_

_"Yes. I just want to put this stuff away." Monica walked across the room and snatched the toys that her children left behind. She looked over at the far wall and stared at the phone. Her face filled with worry as she contemplated her next move. She shook her head as if to dismiss her own thoughts and walked out of the kitchen, only to walk right back in again and snatch the phone from the receiver._

_"Hello? Hi. It's Monica. I was wondering if you could do me a favor."_

* * *

Monica made her way inside and could hear the faint sound of the television playing from the living room. She looked in on Chandler, who was sitting on the couch, half-reading a book and half-watching TV. He perked up when he saw her. "Hey. You're home early."

"Yeah. It was slow and I thought maybe I would put the copies of the letters that I sent over to the agency in the binder. What are you doing?"

"They're replaying Joey's show on the food network. This is the one where he eats that really spicy taco."

Monica nodded and exhaled a laugh. "This is a good one." She kicked off her shoes and slid onto the arm of the chair, putting her arm around Chandler and mindlessly playing with the fabric of his shirt as she rested her hand on his shoulder. "How was everything here?"

"Good. It only took three tries to get Erica to go to sleep."

"She is going to be trouble."

Chandler slid his arm around Monica's waist and pulled her closer to him. "You already mailed in the letters?"

"Yep. Next step is the home visit."

Chandler looked up at her and rested his head on her hip. "Nervous?"

"Always."

"Me too."

Monica then sat up straight and looked over at her purse. "Oh, hey. I have this other letter here."

"Another letter? Don't you think that's overkill?"

Monica hopped of the arm of the couch and walked over to retrieve the letter. "Well, this one isn't for the adoption agency."

"Who is it for?"

"You." She handed the letter to him, and he looked up at her, his face riddled with confusion. "Just open it."

Chandler opened the flap and pulled out the two-page letter slowly. "I don't understand. Who wrote this?" Monica pointed at the name at bottom of the letter. "My mom? I don't understand."

"I thought maybe you needed to know how much you meant."

Chandler held the letter down in his lap and shook his head. "What?"

Monica sat back down on the arm of the chair, placing her hands on both of his shoulders. "Will you read the stupid, beautiful letter your mother wrote about you! I'm trying to create a moment here, and you are sort of ruining it!"

Chandler laughed and held the letter up. "You did this?"

Monica just pointed back at the letter and narrowed her eyes at her husband. As he started to read, Monica looked off to the side as her mind snagged on a memory from a few years ago.

* * *

_Monica opened the door to her apartment and was startled to see that her mother on the other side. "Mom? What are you doing here?"_

_"What? I can't visit my daughter?"_

_"No, it's just, well, I was just on my way out to meet Chandler for lunch."_

_"Oh, I know. I just spoke with him before I drove in. I thought I would take you to lunch instead."_

_Monica looked confused, but nodded and stepped out into the hall. "Oh, okay."_

_Judy smiled at her daughter and then shifted her purse to a more comfortable position under her arm. "And then, I was thinking, maybe after lunch we could go shopping."_

_Monica shrugged her shoulders the two women began their descent down the stairs. "All right. Did you need something?"_

_"No dear. Not for me. For you. I want to buy you a wedding dress."_

_Monica stopped mid-step and looked over at her mother. "What?"_

_Judy placed her hand on her daughter's arm and guided her down the stairs. "Well, Chandler told me you had to return the one you picked out recently. That's what happens when you buy off the rack dear. They never fit right., I made a few appointments at a couple of little shops here in the village. I'm sure we will find you something."_

_"But I thought there was no money?"_

_Judy pulled her daughter close to her as they stepped out onto the street. "Let's just say that I found a little bit under the mattress."_

* * *

_Monica stepped out from behind the curtain and her mother smiled the instant she saw her daughter. "Oh Monica. You look gorgeous. I think that is the one."_

_"Really?"_

_"Yes. Here, look." Judy grabbed Monica by her shoulders and steered her towards the full-length mirror. "You're practically a vision."_

_Monica studied herself for a few moments and smiled. "It does look amazing." She then looked at her mother's reflection in the mirror and tilted her head. "Mom. Are you feeling all right?"_

_"Why of course. Why would you think otherwise?"_

_"It's just that, well, we don't do things like this."_

_Judy stepped away and sat down on the couch in the fitting room. "Can't a mother just want to buy her daughter a wedding dress?"_

_"Sure but…"_

_"I just know how important it is to get this right. I was a bride too you know. You only get married once. Unless you are your brother of course." Both women laughed and then shook their heads sympathetically as they thought of Ross._

_Monica looked over at her mother. "You really think I'll only need one dress?"_

_Judy took her daughter's hand in hers and smiled. "Yes dear, I do. And I just wanted to say, I am really proud of you."_

_"Okay, now I am worried about you. Did you eat enough for lunch? Because if you're feeling light-headed, I'm sure they have something here."_

_Judy waved her hand to dismiss her daughter's concern and laughed. "Pish! Can't a mother be proud of her daughter."_

_"Sure. A mother can. My mother? Not so much."_

_Judy bobbed her head side-to-side and allowed a slight frown to spread across her lips. "Well, certain things have been brought to light for me recently."_

_"What kind of things?"_

_Judy sighed. "Well, okay. Remember when we went to lunch last year? It was after the holidays?" Monica nodded. "Chandler and I had a little, ah, shall we say, chat. He just made me realize some things."_

_Monica wrinkled her brow as she turned to face her mother. "Really?"_

_"Oh, don't do that dear. You'll make worry lines all across your forehead." Monica huffed and blew some of her hair from her face. Judy took a quick sip from the mimosa she held in her hand. "At first, I was a little insulted, but, well, something your father said to me a few weeks ago had me thinking about it again. I know now that maybe I've been hard on you at times. I guess Chandler was just looking out for your best interests." Judy placed the glass down on the table beside her and ran her hands down her dress. "We Geller women aren't very easy to deal with. When we find the right man, who can see through all that, oh I don't need to tell you. You already know."_

_Monica approached her mother. "I'm still kind of confused."_

_"Let's just say that Chandler loves you very much, and I don't think there isn't anything he wouldn't do for you."_

_"What did he say?"_

_"Oh, that's not important."_

_"Mom?"_

_Judy looked up, trying to appear annoyed at her daughter's persistence. "He may have let me know that I wasn't very good at showing my appreciation for you, and how you're too good for us and none of us deserve you."_

_Monica's jaw dropped a bit in shock. "Really?"_

_"I think that's the gist of it. He tends to ramble a bit before he makes a point. It is kind of off-putting."_

_Monica smiled and nodded as she turned back to look at herself in the mirror. "I know."_

_"You two are going to be very happy together. You were smart like me and made sure to wait for the right man."_

_Monica made eye contact with her mother's reflection and offered her a warm smile. "Thanks mom. I think so too."_

_"I do love you dear. You know that, right?"_

_"I know. I love you too."_

* * *

"I don't understand. Why didn't she write anything about you?" Chandler dropped the letter into his lap and turned up to look at his wife.

"I might have told your mother that we needed our own individual letters, and that I already had one so she should write about you."

"You mean you lied?"

"Yeah, is that bad? Please don't tell her that I lied. She still likes me."

Chandler chuckled and leaned over to kiss his wife's thigh. "No. I'm impressed. You're normally so bad at lying." He looked down again at the letter. "Did she really write all that? You didn't send anything to her?"

"I didn't. I did read it a few times though."

"Opening someone else's mail is a federal offense." Monica shook her head as she playfully slapped him on the shoulder. Chandler laughed but then looked back up at her. "What do I do?"

"Well, I think you should call her. You should invite her to Thanksgiving and you should thank her for the lovely letter and you two should reconnect and finally bond as mother and son and you'll both have me to thank for it."

Chandler laughed and shook his head. "You really did all this just so the two of us would talk?"

Monica looked down and nodded. Her cheeks flushed slightly with mild embarrassment.

"You're amazing. Do you know that?"

"I know. I have this guy that hangs around me all the time and he tells me that a lot."

Chandler stood up and faced her. "You're talking about me, right?"

"No. Javier, from the restaurant."

"You know I don't like jokes like that." Monica nodded and shrugged her shoulders. "All right. I'll call her." He placed a kiss on Monica's head. "I love you. Call me when they get to the part where Joey forgets how spicy the taco was and takes another bite. I love that part."

Monica slid down off the arm of the chair and made herself comfortable in the seat that he had just vacated. "Okay."

Chandler turned to look at her one more time before leaving the room. "And…thanks."

Monica watched him as he walked away and listened to his footsteps as he approached the kitchen. She smiled to herself as she heard him pick the phone up from the receiver and closed her eyes. "Oh honey, thank you too."


	28. Thanksgiving 2005

**Thanksgiving 2005**

Chandler made his way downstairs, with the twins in tow, smiling from ear to ear. From the moment he woke up, he could smell the food Monica had left cooking in the oven. The warm, inviting aroma practically pulling him down the stairs. It was as if wispy tendrils were reaching out from the kitchen and wrapping themselves through his nostrils, tugging him closer to the source of the pleasing blend of aromatics. It was a funny thing to him, having this kind of response to food that he used to revile. Despite his best efforts for most of his life, ever since last year, when he finally lifted his embargo on any traditional Thanksgiving fare passing his lips, Chandler had become quite the fan of "pilgrim" food. Now, he can't imagine getting through the day without eating some of Monica's stuffing, candied yams, or her mashed potatoes. He even doesn't mind having a little turkey all that much anymore. However, he still draws a hard line at brussel sprouts and mashed turnips.

Once he reached the bottom step, Erica squirmed and pulled her hand out of his, so she could walk on her own. She stumbled her way into the kitchen, teetering side-to-side with each step. Chandler took Jack off his hip and dropped him down to the floor, where he promptly followed his sister down the hall. Practically mirroring her movements, step-for-step. It was at times like this, that he could truly see them as twins.

For the most part, they acted very differently. Erica was more independent, constantly on the move, while Jack still enjoyed being coddled, and was content to sit still and entertain himself. Erica could be fussy and picky with food. Jack, on the other hand, would eat anything you put in front of him. Erica was bossy and demanding. She babbled constantly as she tried to form new words, and she spoke in sentences that only he and Monica could fully understand. Jack was quieter, only spoke when prompted, and enjoyed playing on his own in silence. Erica had golden yellow hair, but Jack was more of a dirty blonde. Jack also had one big dimple on his right cheek when he smiled and laughed, which he did almost all of the time. Erica would wrinkle her forehead constantly as she would become frustrated; anything could set her off, a toy that didn't work, something too far out of reach, or a goal she could not reach because of her limited mobility. Erica seemed to want to conquer the world, while Jack was much more comfortable being a spectator. Yet, when they walked and ran side-by-side, it was like they were a perfect copy of each other.

Chandler made sure to walk closely behind them and as the teetered into the kitchen. It was odd to wake up in the morning, let alone on Thanksgiving, and not have Monica already in the kitchen with her apron on; darting around the room from dish-to-dish. Cutting, stirring, and chopping her way about the kitchen as she was preparing the sumptuous holiday meal. Yet, she was not here this morning, instead, she was at the restaurant. Opening her doors for a food drive along with the other businesses in town, offering free breakfast for people donating goods to the local food pantry and for the families in need that were there to take something home in order to have their own Thanksgiving. Chandler chuckled as he thought of Monica, boasting last night that she was going to make so many crepes and pancakes that no one was going to have room for dinner later that afternoon.

When Chandler finally stepped through the entranceway and into the kitchen, he stopped short, almost tipping over as his eyes fell to the table. There was a tray of stuffing with the tinfoil cover pulled up and what looked to be a few portions missing. Next to it, a container of gravy with the cover removed. Chandler looked up and shook his head. "Joey!"

Chandler turned around, quickly walked through the hall, and entered the den. "Joey, what are you doing?"

Joey turned around and looked up at him from his seat in the recliner. A plate with some crumbs and drops of gravy in his lap. "What?" Chandler pointed at the plate and Joey looked down at it and then back up at Chandler. "I woke up hungry. It's the damn time zone delay. I'm missing meals."

"What meal would you be missing at 5am?"

Joey looked off to the side and began to slowly count off on his fingers. "It's 5am in L.A.? That doesn't make sense. If its 5am, then why am I awake?"

Chandler huffed and put his hand on his face. "You haven't even been here for twenty-four hours and you are already getting us in trouble! Come on, we have to fix this before Monica comes home." Suddenly, there was a loud crash from the kitchen and Chandler groaned as he grabbed his face with his hand. He spun around and jogged into the kitchen. He stopped at the doorway and looked down. Jack and Erica were sitting there, the container of gravy now upside-down on the floor. Jack was reaching his hand out and scooping up some of the spilt gravy, sticking it into his mouth as Erica kicked to container across the floor.

"Huh. So, this is how I die."

Joey stood behind him and winced as he saw the scene playing out in the kitchen. "Well, we did all figure if you went early it would be because Monica killed you."

Chandler turned to look at Joe and gasped. "What do we do?"

"Well, the stuffing isn't ruined." Joey walked past Chandler and grabbed the tin. "Look, I'll just shake it and it'll even out and no one will know I took any." Before either man could process his plan, Joey began to violently jerk the tray back-and-forth. He carefully watched the stuffing as it began to slide around in the tray. "See dude, this is going to work." Without warning, the tray slipped from his fingers and flew across the room, crashing into the sink as it emptied out all over the floor. Joey looked at his hands and his eyes widened with rage. "Damn gravy fingers!"

Chandler began to gesticulate wildly and his eyes darted around the room. "Joe! Now she's going to kill both of us!"

Joey looked down as he contemplated their next move. He then smiled, nodded and snapped his fingers. "I got it!" He jumped over towards the food that had fallen on the floor and began scooping it back up into the tray.

"Joe! You can't do that!"

"What? Just don't eat it. Jack and Erica aren't going to say anything."

"Yeah, but it was on the floor."

"What would you rather do? Watch everyone eat floor food or have Monica kill you?"

"You make a good point." Chandler looked down at his two children who were still sitting in the spilt gravy. "What about this?" He looked around the kitchen nervously. "Wait!" He smiled as he pointed in the direction of the pantry. "You know what. I think we may have a few jars of gravy in there!" Chandler skipped across the room and started to look around on the shelves of the pantry.

Joey screwed up his face in disgust. "Jarred gravy? For Thanksgiving? I mean, it should really be made from scratch."

Chandler stepped out of the pantry and stared blankly at Joey. He then pointed at the gravy on the floor and sighed heavily. "What do you think that was!"

"I know. It was really good. You should think about having that with dinner today."

Chandler rolled his eyes and continued his search in the pantry. "That's a great idea Joe. I don't know why we didn't think of that."

* * *

Monica walked into the house and quickly took off her coat, hanging it on a hook inside the closet. "Chandler?"

"In here."

Monica walked into the den and saw Joey and Chandler on the floor playing with Jack and Erica. "Aww. Look at you guys. You finally graduated from birds to children."

Both men nodded enthusiastically. Joey picked up a toy and started to press buttons, causing different Sesame Street characters to pop up. "Mon, me and Jack have been playing with this all morning. I have to get one of these. Where did you guys get this?"

Monica quickly moved across the room, grabbed Erica, and lifted her up to give her a kiss. "Oh, do you know someone with a child back in L.A. who would like it?"

Joey frowned and looked down as he started to speak softly. "Yeah. Sure. I mean, why else would I want to buy one of these. Certainly not buying one for myself."

Monica tried to suppress a smile and shared a knowing glance with Chandler. She started to brush Erica's hair and squinted as she began to run her fingers through a few strands. "What is this?" She gently pulled off some dried gravy and ran it between her fingers. "Chandler? What happened to Erica's hair?"

"Uh, well, you know kids nowadays. I mean, I saw a boy at the store the other day, frosted tips." Monica burrowed her gaze at her husband as he focused his attention on the toy in front of him. "I mean, we should just accept that we are getting older and out of touch with today's hairstyles."

"Chandler!"

"Well, if you must know, she, ah, was painting."

"Really? Oh, I thought maybe it was just some food from breakfast."

"Yes. That would have made more sense."

Erica looked over at her father and then back at her mother. "Grayee."

Monica looked down at her daughter. "What was that honey? Gravy?" She then shot a stern look back at Chandler and Joey.

"What? No, she didn't say 'gravy', she said, uh, 'grey-ee'."

"Oh yeah? Well, then what is 'grey-ee'?"

Chandler looked down at Erica and then back up at Monica. "Well, that's when you…"

"Grayee." Jack, copying Erica, turned his head around and smiled after he spoke.

Chandler shook his head in defeat. "You know, I liked you kids better when all you could say was 'yeah'. It made lying much easier."

Jack laughed and started to babble, but then stopped as he looked up at Joey. He strained as he reached for the toy Joey held in his hands.

"You guys got into the gravy?" Monica set Erica back down and stood up. "I knew we should have gotten Joey a hotel room." Monica huffed and quickly walked away, leaving the room. "I better go check on the rest of the food."

"Joey leaned over and elbowed Chandler gently on the side. "Whew. That was a close one."

"Close one? She knows about the gravy."

"Yeah, at least she didn't find out about…"

Suddenly, Monica's scolding voice boomed from the kitchen. "Who got into the stuffing!"

* * *

Rachel and Phoebe walked into the kitchen together and both women started to look around. Rachel placed her hand on Monica's arm and smiled. "What can we help with?"

"Seriously? You two want to help?"

"Yeah. Phoebe and I were talking about the wedding, and we started to reminisce about her wedding, and we just realized how much you did for her to make that day so special and magical."

Phoebe ran her finger along the kitchen table and smiled. "Yeah, I mean, except for the freezing cold and the ice sculpture melting before the ceremony, it was perfect!"

Rachel nodded. "I guess we just realized how much you do for us, and we never really get to return the favor. So, here we are. Use us!"

Monica chuckled and shook her head. "Don't let Joey hear you say that." The three women shared a laugh together as they all nodded in agreement. "Well, okay, helpers; I need someone to finish setting up the crudité, and I was thinking we could put out some more wine."

Rachel raised her hands up in celebration. "More wine!" She walked over to the counter and grabbed the wine bottle opener. Phoebe sat down at the kitchen table and began to organize some of the sliced vegetables on the tray in front of her.

Monica handed Rachel a bottle of white wine. "Thanks guys. I really appreciate this."

Rachel started to position the opener at the top of the bottle and smiled. "Really, it is the least I can do after all the help you're giving me with my wedding."

Phoebe looked up from her task and stared at Rachel. "What?" Rachel's body tightened up as she closed her eyes tightly and pulled her hands up to her chest. Phoebe, becoming impatient with her silence, looked over at Monica. "Mon, what is she talking about?"

Monica turned around and approached Phoebe slowly. "Uh, well, I just gave Rachel a little bit of help with a couple of things for the wedding."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Well, the flowers, and the venue, and the music, and the centerpieces. The bridesmaid dresses, her bouquet, the place settings, and maybe the food?"

Rachel shook her head as she stared at Monica. Phoebe darted her eyes between the two women. "Oh, I see. So, I guess as the Maid of Honor I get to pick, what? The tuxes?"

Monica squinted as she tried to soften her words. "Actually Pheebs, I went with Ross and we picked out tuxes last week."

"Well, did you at least go with cummerbunds?"

"Sure, if by cummerbund you mean vest."

Phoebe shook her head angrily and stared at Rachel. "So, I don't get to do anything? I don't get to help at all?"

Monica sat down next to Phoebe and gently touched her arm. "Wait Phoebe, this is a good thing. You don't have to do any of the boring, tedious work, but you still get to be the Maid of Honor."

Rachel walked over and nodded. "Yes! Oh, honey, you don't want to sit there and look at napkin patterns anyway."

"Yes, I do!"

"Really?"

"Rachel, when the three of us agreed to be each other's Maid of Honor, and I found out I got to be yours, I was really excited. You and Monica have been friends for so long, and the two of you have so many special memories together. I thought that I would finally have something like that with you. That planning your wedding would be just me and you, and it would be our thing that we could talk about for years." Phoebe stood up from the table and headed towards the entranceway. "I guess having some special bond between the two of us isn't as important to you as it is to me." Phoebe stormed out of the kitchen and disappeared from sight, leaving both Monica and Rachel behind.

* * *

Chandler entered the den carrying a glass of merlot and handed it to his mother. "Here mom. I'm glad you could make it early this year."

Nora Bing looked across the room at her ex-husband, who was sitting on the floor dressed as Helena, and playing with their grandchildren. "Can you believe this is where we are now?"

Chandler looked over at his father and laughed as he nodded. "Never would have guessed it in a million years."

Nora took a sip from her glass, never taking her eyes off Helena. She leaned in towards her son and spoke softly. "Do you know, he told me about his show, and asked my opinion about some of the dialogue? He actually scribbled down notes."

"That's great. Maybe he can change the name of the show to family dysfunction. That's kind of snappy."

Nora chuckled into her glass and looked back at Helena. "I don't think we are all that dysfunctional anymore. Look at us. All sitting around waiting for Thanksgiving dinner. We are practically a Norman Rockwell painting."

"Maybe with a little Robert Mapplethorpe thrown in."

"I'm being serious. Never would I have imagined you and your father having the kind of relationship that you have now. Or me and you having this conversation."

"Or you and dad not arguing about who looks better in a sequins gown." Chandler settled down onto the arm of the couch and looked over at his father. "Monica did all this."

Nora nodded and reached over to hold his hand. "She gave the push, but you had to let her push you."

Chandler laughed. "That isn't normally how it works with Monica."

"Give yourself a little credit dear."

* * *

Phoebe flounced into the dining room and plopped down onto her seat next to Mike. "We are mad at Rachel."

"Oh. Okay. Should I boo her when she walks in or…"

"I'm serious Mike."

Ross let out a nervous giggle and then straightened up to composed himself. "Uh, what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh, okay."

"Rachel and Monica have been planning the wedding together behind my back, and I'm really mad about it." She pointed at Ross. "Unlike you, I don't think Rachel plans to get married more than once so I'll never have this chance again."

Ross's eyes go up to the ceiling and he pondered whether or not he should bring a voice to his thoughts. He then relented, knowing he could not stop himself from correcting the record. "Technically, Rachel has been married before. To me."

"See! And she didn't even let me be her Maid of Honor then either!"

Mike flashed a small smile at Ross and then looked off to the side, puzzled by this new information. "Wait. You two were married before?"

"Yeah, but it was a drunken marriage in Vegas."

"How many times have you been married?"

"Uh, well, with this one coming up, I guess it will be four?"

Mike smiled and shook his head. "Wow! And I thought my one divorce made me look bad."

Ross narrowed his eyes and let out a mock laugh. "Not with this group. Come to think of it? Chandler and Monica are the only ones who've been married once."

Mike nodded and gestured towards his wife. "Well, and Phoebe."

"No, there was the ice dancer." Ross pointed his finger at Phoebe. "What was his name?"

Phoebe started to look around the table nervously and shook her head. "What?"

"You know. The ice dancer. Blonde guy. You two got divorced in like 96 or 97…"

Mike turned to look at Phoebe. "You were married before?"

"Yes. Okay, yes. But it wasn't a real marriage. It was for a green card. And, in my defense. I thought he was gay."

Ross laughed and gestured to Phoebe. "That's funny. You married a gay guy who turned out to be straight, and I married a straight woman who turned out to be gay." His smile disappeared and his expression became sullen. "I guess it isn't really that funny."

Joey entered the room, holding a turkey leg in his hand and he took a large bite from it. "What are you guys talking about?"

Ross looked up at Joey. "Mike didn't know that Phoebe was married before. And, maybe don't talk with a mouthful of turkey next time."

Mike nodded. "Yeah, but, uh, it's okay, I guess. Not the turkey thing. That's gross to look at. I mean with Phoebe, it wasn't a real marriage."

Joey shook his head. "Pheebs. I thought we cleared all that up. When you get married in Vegas, it is a real marriage."

Mike looked up at him and Phoebe took the opportunity to glare at Joey while Mike's attention was diverted. Mike then turned to look at Phoebe. "You and this ice guy got married in Vegas too?"

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Not exactly. There was this other guy, but once I found out that it wasn't fake, we got a divorce."

Ross furrowed his brow as he stared at Phoebe. "Wait! You've been married three times?"

"Well…"

"All this time, you've been making fun of me for my three marriages, and you've been married three times?"

"Yeah, well…you've been divorced three time. I've only been divorced twice."

Mike stood up. "You've been married twice!"

"Mike, let me explain."

Monica walked into the dining room with a tray of food and looked over at Joey. "Joe! Where did you get that turkey leg?"

"In the kitchen."

"I didn't serve the turkey yet! What did you do? Just rip it off when I wasn't looking?"

"What? No, I used a knife."

Rachel walked in behind Monica and quickly glanced at Phoebe. "Phoebe…"

"Nuh-uh. I have nothing to say to you, you…uh…well….I don't know what I would call you in this situation, so just imagine I said something very hurtful right now."

Mike put his hand up, gesturing for Rachel to give him a minute. "Phoebe. We really should talk about this."

Phoebe glared at Ross. "We wouldn't have to if Ross could have kept his big mouth shut!"

Ross pointed at Joey. "Hey! He's the one who brought up the Vegas marriage! Yell at him!"

Monica put her hand in Ross's face to quiet him. "She has to get in line, because I'm going to yell at him first for ruining the turkey!"

The six of them began to yell over each other, switching the target of their ire from one person to another. Their voices blended together into a cacophony of anger. No one willing to let someone else get a word in. Each person pointed at someone in the room as tempers flared.

* * *

Chandler's head tilted as his ears pricked up. "Do you guys hear that?"

Helena chuckled and stood up. "Sounds like the dressing room minutes before the curtain went up on opening night."

Chandler looked over at his father and then glanced at his mother. "Are people…arguing?"

Nora took a sip of her drink. "Sounds like it."

"You mean to tell me, that it is Thanksgiving, and everyone except the Bings are yelling and screaming at each other?" Chandler darted his eyes once more between his parents. "Is this how the world ends?"

He turned, left the den, and walked into the dining room. He jumped back, startled at how intense the fighting had become. He watched for a brief moment as everyone seemed to be yelling at anyone they could. Angry, admonishing fingers and one sloppy turkey leg swinging in the air. Chandler put his fingers into his mouth and let out one long, loud whistle. He only stopped when he finally got everyone's attention.

"What is going on in here?" Everyone started to talk at the same time and he could not make out what anyone was saying. Chandler waved his arms, gesturing for them all to stop. "Okay, you all have made some very good points."

"Rachel and Monica have been planning the wedding behind my back!"

Rachel walked over to Phoebe and knelt down beside her, taking her hands into her own. "Pheebs. I am so sorry that I did that. I had no idea how much this means to you. From now on, it will be just me and you, and we can look over everything all over again and start from scratch. Okay?"

Ross shot Rachel a confused look. "Start from scratch?"

Rachel waved Ross off and then turned her attention back to Phoebe. "Come one Pheebs. What do you say?"

"We don't have to start from scratch."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. The only thing I ask is that you let me help pick out new bridesmaid dresses because I am going to be very pregnant when you get married and I want to look good."

Rachel laughed and nodded in agreement. "Okay Phoebe."

Phoebe turned to Mike. "I'm sorry I never told you about my other marriages. I guess, they just never felt real." She then extended her finger and moved it from his chest to hers. "You and me. This is real. This is the only one that counts."

Mike looked down and nodded. Chandler shook his head. "Will you kiss and make up already?"

Mike and Phoebe laughed as they leaned in and shared a kiss.

Monica then pointed at Joey. "He started eating the turkey before dinner was served!" Chandler smiled and exhaled a short laugh. Monica stomped her foot and glared at him. "It's not funny!"

Chandler gestured towards Joey and nodded. "Joe. Tell her."

Monica looked at him and then turned her attention to Joe. "Tell me what?"

Joey scratched at the back of his neck. "I was going to wait until dinner."

"So was that turkey leg!" Monica jabbed a finger at him and Joey jumped back.

Joey straightened up and smiled meekly at her. "I was talking to my producer on my Food Network show and I convinced them to do a few episodes in New York. And, well, I was thinking that maybe we can do your restaurant."

"What?"

"We want to shoot an episode at your restaurant. Every place we've been to sees a big jump in business and so I just thought that…"

Monica started to smile and then looked at Chandler. "I'm going to be on TV?" Chandler laughed and nodded. She then turned back to Joey. "My food is going to be on TV?"

"If you want."

Monica leapt up and hugged Joey tightly. She stepped back and started to look around the room. "Oh man! I have to start planning! There's so much to do before we're ready. I have to figure out what dishes to offer and what ingredients to use and should we have the tres leches cake or the fried oreos…." Monica's voice trailed off as she absentmindedly walked out of the dining room.

Joey looked over at Chandler, shrugged his shoulders and smiled. Phoebe looked off to the side and nodded. "You know, I was almost on TV. I was going to be a weather person."

Chandler sat down and grabbed a piece of bread from a tray in front of him. "Yeah Pheebs? I don't think you ever told us that."

Ross twisted his face up into a suspicious scowl. "What? You're not a meteorologist."

"No, but there was this one time I met Al Roker in Mexico, and let's just say I got him out of a tight spot. Anyway, he owed me this huge favor and…" Phoebe stopped talking and then looked over at Mike. "Uh, come to think of it, I might have been married more than three times."


	29. The Grey Mornings

**The Grey Mornings**

It was just past six as Monica walked through the upstairs hallway; marking the start of the day as she usually would, by making her way from the master bedroom to the bathroom for her morning shower. She stopped before she reached her destination and leaned up against the door-frame to the spare room as she took a moment to look inside. For quite a while, stopping and inspecting this room had been a daily ritual for her, as it was the most prominent physical reminder of the baby she and Chandler had lost. As the weeks and months after her miscarriage went by, she found herself here, in the doorway, wondering what might have been, less frequently. At the start of the holiday season, she had gone almost more than three weeks without taking pause to view this room. It wasn't until her estimated due date, which was exactly one month ago today, that she added this small, quiet visit back into her daily routine.

She wrapped her arms around herself as she sighed. Her eyes scanned the room. The empty hamper she picked up at the local Target was still in the corner. The spare changing table they moved in here from the twins' room on the day of the first ultrasound was there, fully stocked and waiting to be used again. Lastly, there were a few boxes of hand-me-down baby clothes from the twins in the middle of the room that she had Chandler fetch from the attic almost as soon as they had found out she was pregnant. It was not until three months after the miscarriage that she finally asked her husband if they should move the clothes back into storage. Chandler tried to convince her that it did not make sense to move them back into the attic, since they would have to bring them back down again once they completed their second adoption and brought a new baby home. She reminded him that it could potentially take years before they got a call that someone wanted them to have their baby, but he insisted that it was good luck to leave them in here. Oddly enough, and against her better judgment, his logic made sense to her and she agreed with him that they should keep the boxes of clothes in the room.

Sometimes she regretted making that decision, especially in these quiet moments during the early morning hours, when she was alone in the hallway, standing in the doorway and looking at the taped-up boxes marked "newborn", "three months", "blankets", and "baby towels & wash cloths". It all sat there as a reminder of what she had lost. She scratched at her stomach, trying to soothe a phantom itch that only seemed to surface when she had moments like this. Moments where she still mourned the loss of her baby. Moments when she felt guilty. Moments where she felt alone.

She brushed her finger underneath her eye to stop a tear from forming and turned her thoughts to the last few months with her family. The holidays seemed to pass by like a bullet train, and now they were in those drab, cold and slow days of January; where it seemed to stay dark and grey all the time. Having an extra sweater or a fleece blanket available while sitting on the couch was tantamount to survival. Especially for Monica, who could be cold in June.

Christmas had been a whirlwind. Jack and Erica both showed a bit more enthusiasm than they had the previous year. Although, all Erica wanted to do was open present after present, even if they were not for her. Jack would sit next to her and play with the paper that she would discard over her shoulder. He sat there all morning, tugging and ripping the wrapping paper into pieces. Monica leaned over to Chandler to tell him that this may be the first year she would not have any paper left that she could salvage for a second use.

Then they were off to her parents' home on Long Island. Christmas was always a big party, with cousins, aunts, and uncles talking over each other as the younger children ran about. She was excited to see how her two little bunnies would interact with the other kids now that they were older, more mobile, and at least on the part of Erica, much more verbal. They did not disappoint. Erica had no problem bossing anyone and everyone around. Sticking her hand out so that one of her older cousins would walk her through the house on demand. Jack was more reserved, and he sat and watched the lights on the tree blink. Content to let people come to him if they wanted his attention.

Monica had baked a few pies that morning to bring along and she had to bake an extra one for Joey, who was still their houseguest, while he spent the holidays in New York. She had thought he wanted to bring the pie to his parents' house for Christmas dinner, but was proven wrong when she came home one night from work to find him sitting in a recliner eating the entire pie by himself with a large spoon. She braced herself for her mother's usual criticism over the baked goods she provided, but to Monica's surprise, there was none. She sat, sipped her coffee and indulged in an extra slice. As far as Monica was concerned, it was a Christmas miracle.

Ross, Rachel, Ben and Emma were all at the Geller's for the day. Monica noted how It was wonderful to see how much Ben seemed to have grown. Now a boy of ten, and much more mature than the practical jokester he had become over the last few years. His tricks and pranks had gotten so bad, that Monica was secretly relieved that she had not seen him that much over the last year or so while they still lived in the apartment. The last time he was there, he put saran wrap over their toilet seat and tape on the extended nozzle from the sink, which caused water to shoot all over the place when she turned on the faucet. Monica loved her nephew, but when it came to him making a mess, she had her limits on how forgiving she could be. Even for Ben.

After most of the guests had left, they had a quiet conversation with her parents, Ross, and Rachel about their decision to adopt again. Even though they had already told everyone about their plans, it still felt strange to bring people into their private little world and listen to their feedback. When she and Chandler were dealing with some major life decision, they were used to being self-sufficient as a couple. They would sometimes forget how wrapped up in each other's lives everyone was before they started to date. Monica and Chandler never needed everyone else's input when they got together; not in the way they used to when they were dating other people.

For Monica, it was one of the signs, early on in their relationship, which informed her that the two of them might actually go the distance. In those first few months together, she saw the potential for them to end up where they were now. Even during the period where they kept their affair a secret; there were hints that they were on the right track. They were a team. They were in sync. It was the two of them against the world. They never felt like they had to play any games in order to try and win each other over, or as if they were conspiring behind each other's backs so that they could ensure that they made only the most perfect impression, or that they only presented their best face, every time they saw each other. It was too late for that with them. They knew each other too well long before their first kiss. They were fated to always be their authentic selves, warts and all. They did not have some secret part of themselves that they buried deep down, hoping never to be revealed. They were open and true, not only to each other, but to themselves as well. She is certain that is why their marriage has been better than she could have ever imagined.

New Year's was quite uneventful for them, as they did not attend any party or celebration with a large crowd. She had worked that night, running a New Year's Eve dinner special. It was busy, packed with older couples taking advantage of the quiet atmosphere that her restaurant provided. She was lucky to find time to run home before the twins went to bed and have a countdown with them. Even though it was over four hours before midnight, she was excited when they set up for their makeshift New Year's celebration.

Chandler had come up with the idea to have an early New Year's countdown, and although Jack and Erica did not really understand what was going on, Monica relished in the opportunity to try and create some perfect New Year's Eve moment with her family. Of course, like everything else in life, perfection was not meant to be.

Chandler had practiced with the twins every night, trying to show them how to do a countdown with their fingers, slowly going from ten-to-one. It did not work out as planned, and instead, Erica just wiggled her fingers in the air and Jack shoved his in his mouth. Neither one really paying attention to the television where Chandler had slipped the video tape of the infamous "Dick Clark's Rocking New Year's Eve" they had recorded back when she and Ross got to dance with the "party people" into their old VCR. As the tape played, Monica covered her face as he pointed her out to their children whenever she appeared on screen. He tried in vain to get one of them to notice that their mother was on TV. She lamented the leather pants she was wearing in the video and Chandler wondered if she still had them and could wear them to bed that night, which elicited a smirk and an eye roll from her.

It was not the picturesque moment she had envisioned when she was a young woman, hoping to one day have a family of her own to celebrate the holidays with, but there they were, together, and she could not have been happier. It was only 7:30pm when they watched the ball drop on the video, pretending it said 2006 for Jack and Erica's benefit. They cheered, clapped, and used noisemakers as they tried to get their children excited. It wasn't perfect, but it was all hers and hers alone. No one else would ever know what this particular family felt like in moments like this except for her. It was a gift she would never take for granted.

Once the twins were asleep, she had to go back to the restaurant and help with the late-night crowd. It was yet another time where she felt grateful to work so close to home, that she could step out for an hour and not miss the big, important moments of her life. She shuddered a bit at the thought of what her home life would be like if she still worked at Javu and commuted to the city every day. All the precious moments she would have missed as she sat in traffic.

She promised Chandler she would be back in time to celebrate the real thing with him and share a kiss at midnight, but she ended up getting held up at the restaurant. She called him to make sure they were at least on the phone when the clock struck twelve, but it was not the same thing. Not for her, and she knew it was definitely not the same for him, who always seemed to think every year needed to start with a kiss for luck.

When she finally got back home, he was already in bed, reading a book and looking like the loneliest man in the world. Monica bit her lip, hatched a plan, and told him to meet her in the living room in fifteen minutes.

She sneaked into her closet and pulled out the leather pants and tank top she wore on the video. She got dressed in the bathroom and pulled her hair back into a ponytail to try and mimic how she looked that night as she danced around the dimly lit studio. Once she was satisfied, she went downstairs and set up the tape so it was ready to play down from one minute to midnight. She lit a few candles, set out champagne, and lowered the lights as she waited for Chandler to arrive.

Upon seeing her there, his breath hitched and his jaw fell to the floor. He tugged at the collar of his pajama shirt, pretending that the temperature in room suddenly became unbearably hot. She clicked play on the remote and shimmied around the room, enticing him to join her as they shared a kiss and an embrace to the same exact countdown they had done so to six years earlier. She apologized for missing the real New Year's Eve and Chandler told her that this one was better. When she asked him how, he told her it was because of the leather pants. She laughed and slapped him playfully, already feeling the tension and guilt of having to work all night, leaving him alone for the holiday, slowly disappear.

That was her husband. Seemingly always able to say the right thing and make her smile in those quiet moments when it was just the two of them and she was feeling self-conscious about herself as a mother or a wife.

She heard the bedroom door open behind her and could feel Chandler's presence in the hallway as he padded his way over to her. She decided not to turn around to greet him and hoped that he would take the opportunity to wrap his arms around her from behind so she could lean back into him. As if he were reading her mind, he did just that. She turned her head slightly and he placed a small kiss almost on the bridge of her nose as she hummed in approval.

"Morning. What are you doing?"

"Just looking. I keep thinking we should do something about these boxes; we don't want look to presumptuous when we have the home visit tomorrow."

"I think they'll like that we were took initiative and are confident in ourselves."

"You just don't want to carry all of this stuff back into the attic."

"Well, it's dark and creepy up there."

Monica chuckled and pressed the back of her head into his chest. "Can I ask you a question?"

Chandler took the opportunity to place another soft kiss along her hairline. "Sure."

"Do you still think about the baby? I know it's been six months, but I can't help it. When I look at this room sometimes, I think about all the nights we sat up talking about everything we needed to get done before she was born and I get sad."

"She?"

"I go back-and-forth sometimes on what I think we were going to have, and right now it feels like a she to me."

"Okay."

"So, do you?"

"Of course, I do."

Monica let loose an almost cathartic sigh as not only his words, but the vibrations in his chest from speaking seemed to already soothe her troubled mind. "Do you think we will always be sad about it?"

"Yeah. I do. Those first few weeks, after you got home from the hospital, they were brutal. I was worried that, maybe, we would never get over it and go back to normal. That we would never be 'us' again. Then, I think I realized, that it is okay that we will never get over it. You know? Like, this is our new normal, and this is the new us." He paused and placed a kiss on the top of her head as he gathered his thoughts. "We will always be sad when we think about our baby, but as time passes, those moments will get split up by moments of happiness. Like Christmas morning with Jack and Erica. Hopefully, those happy times happen more often and these feelings of sorrow happen less and less. But, it will always be there. I think the next step for us will be not feeling guilty for not always being sad."

Monica smiled, it was an odd sensation to get comfort from hearing her husband say that she will always mourn the loss of her unborn child, but knowing that he felt the same way made her feel less alone. Again, as always, it was a moment and a feeling that could only be shared by the two of them. It was theirs, and theirs alone.

Chandler cleared his throat and she felt his mood change simply from the way he was holding her. "So, she? Huh?"

"Yeah."

"Did you have a name picked out?"

"Well…"

"What was it?"

"I started thinking that she was going to be an Amanda, but then I put that together with Bing and it sounded more like 'A Man to Bang' and not Amanda Bing. So, then I thought, maybe Ella. I know it sounds like Emma, but I don't know, it just started to fit for me."

"Ella Bing?"

Monica smiled and nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay, so how about, whenever we're alone, and we want to talk about it, we call her Ella. It sounds like a jazz singer from the forties, but she will be our little jazz singer."

"What if I was wrong and it was a boy?"

"Well, looking at my gene pool, even if it was a boy, he might have become an Ella."

Monica slapped one of his arms that was still tightly holding her waist and chuckled. "Your father would have been so proud."

Chandler started to place small kisses down her neck, and she lifted her head to allow him more access. "What are you doing? We don't have time for this."

"Why not?"

"We have an entire house to clean before the home visit from the agency tomorrow."

"But I already cleaned the kitchen."

Monica raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Really?"

"That's right. Your husband cleaned the kitchen last night." Chandler continued his slow kisses along her neck and lowered his voice a few octaves. "Oh yeah, I went deep and didn't miss a spot. I rubbed that sweet, antibacterial Lysol all over your counters. And you know I pulled the stove and fridge out to clean behind them."

Monica spun around and started to respond with kisses of her own along his shoulder. "Really?"

"Those place mats and dish towels? I had them on spin cycle just like you want it. They spun for thirty-five minutes with other assorted laundry because I know you freaky like that. Then I finished it off with a microfiber cloth and a steam mop on the wood floor."

Monica started to breath heavy and pulled him to her so they could share a slow, lingering kiss on his lips. As she pulled back, she smiled seductively at him and bobbed her head in the direction of their bedroom. "That is so hot. Did you do the windows?"

"No, but that's only because I like to leave you wanting more."

Monica laughed as she sighed. This was also her husband. He was ridiculous and he made her laugh and he was hers and hers alone. She smiled as she turned towards the bedroom and dragged him behind her. "I guess I have a few extra minutes, but after this, we go downstairs and clean those windows."


	30. Smoked Out

**Smoked Out**

Chandler held the unlit cigarette between his forefinger and his thumb as he ran it under his nose and sniffed its length. It had been almost three weeks since the last time he smoked, and when he did indulge in that last cigarette, all he could manage was one slow drag before he impulsively extinguished it and tossed it away. He remembered everything about that last, brief hit of nicotine that brought with it all of those familiar sensations that his body constantly craves. Even now, all these years later after he tried his very first cigarette, he still felt that buzzy, lightheadedness that comes with each pull on the filter. His on-again, off-again affair with this addictive drug only intensified over the summer as it provided a much-needed release valve on all the pressure that was building up due to how he and Monica were handling the aftermath of the miscarriage.

He thought that his cravings would have stopped once everything seemed to be getting back to normal, and Monica was finally starting to come out of her depression. He had thought they turned a corner in those last few weeks of summer as she focused her newfound energy on starting them on their new adoption plan. Seeing her regain the signature Monica Geller spark that had died down in her for those long months after they left the hospital in June should have provided him with a sense of relief, but instead, it only seemed to trigger his own repressed emotions. He had worked so hard and concentrated on Monica and the children while they were trying to piece their lives back together, that he did not realize he was not allowing himself the chance to process everything that had happened to them. It was almost as if he was subconsciously holding back his own feelings of grief until Monica recovered. Now that it looked like she had, all of those emotions began to flood out of him.

Chandler had spent most of his adult life taking those complex feelings about the things that have happened to him and burying them deep inside himself. Their only escape would be a sardonic comment or joke that worked to suppress those uncomfortable emotions. He found out at a very young age that it was much easier to laugh at himself than process his feelings in a more mature and no doubt healthier way. Over time, he mastered the artful craft of keeping himself detached from the painful events he had experienced in his life. He was able to treat most of them as if they happened to someone else. His parent's divorce, his father leaving him, his mother's neglect, bullying at school, terrible relationships; it all went into the vault. All of the worst events of his life stayed buried in those deep recesses of his mind and they rarely threatened to emerge. That repression of his feelings and worst moments worked for him, and he assumed that was going to be how he lived his life until the day he died. That all changed though, once he fell in love with Monica.

Up until that night in London, Chandler took the hits that life offered him and recoiled into himself, avoiding confrontation and without allowing himself to acknowledge the pain he felt with each new emotional pratfall. It was better that way. He could quickly move on and use a superficial barometer to prove to himself that he was fine. It was easier to fantasize about a stripper and declare to himself that he was over a painful break-up, rather than seriously evaluate what went wrong. Why dwell on the hurt and the devastating blows to his dwindling self-esteem when he could spend a week in sweatpants watching porn and then go back to life as it was before he had his heart broken and without pointing a microscope at himself.

Being with Monica changed all of that. She had this key that unlocked him, and before he knew it, every negative emotion he tried to avoid, in order to protect himself, was free to roam about in his psyche. To his surprise, instead of bringing more pain and sorrow and discomfort, it freed him from all of the baggage he had been carrying around ever since the day his parents told him they were getting a divorce. With Monica, he found that he cried easier, he laughed and smiled with a sincerity that he did not know he was missing, and he loved with more intensity than he ever had before. He uncovered an empathy, not only for others, but for himself, that he did not know existed. Thanks to Monica, he eventually confronted his resentment towards his father, and discovered a newly defined and more rewarding relationship with him than he could have ever imagined. He acknowledged the distance between he and his mother, and found that in doing so, it actually brought them closer together. He uncharacteristically spoke aloud his doubts about his abilities to be a father, and instead of being riddled with self-doubt as a result, his confession gave him permission to fail, which in turn, made him a better parent. It was all because of Monica. She made him more vulnerable than he had ever been, but she also made him a better man.

Being this new version of himself was working, and despite all of his misgivings, he noticed the changes he was going through. He fought for the things he wanted with Monica in a way that he never had before. He brought himself to confront difficult moments of adversity, when in the past, he would normally let a relationship dissolve under the pressure of the first setback or bump in the road. Instead of running away from those uneasy confrontations with Monica, as their early courtship experienced growing pains, he dove head first into the uncomfortable maintenance that all relationships require, another thing he had never done before. He wanted for things out of life that he never allowed himself to believe he would ever need or find. He was comfortable in his own skin, and with Monica, he finally got to the other side of the tunnel that had dogged him for so many years.

Yet, when Monica fell into her depression, he found himself slipping back into old habits. He started to bottle all of his own feelings up and stuffed them deep down inside himself again. This time though, he convinced himself that he was not doing it to protect himself from some painful self-reflections, and instead, he was doing it for Monica. He was certain that the only way to help her heal and recover was to tamp down his own worries, doubts and fears. In those months after they had left the hospital, he knew that she did not need him to be the vulnerable Chandler who was in touch with his own feelings. She could not fix herself and him at the same time. She needed him to be okay and even keeled. She needed him to take it on the chin and bury it all down. She needed him to be the old Chandler. Even if he wasn't really capable of being that man anymore.

At first, he was able to at least play the part by concentrating all his attention on the twins. It was easy in those first few weeks as Monica was still recovering physically from her ordeal. He worked from home, changed diapers, made lunches and dinners, gave baths and carried them upstairs for bedtime when they were too tired to make the trip on their own. He was determined to be super-dad and take all of the pressure off of Monica. When she was finally able to do more around the house, she seemed to be on autopilot. She prepared meals for Jack and Erica, but it took her twice as long as it used to. She laid out clothes for them, but she no longer tried to make them match each other in some way like she had before. She read stories to them in bed, but found herself nodding off before they did. It was as if she were a zombie, or the ghost of Monica, wandering the halls of their home.

The only time she truly came alive, was when she was working at the restaurant. Early on, Chandler thought that it might be a positive step in the right direction for her, a sign that she was close to finding her spark again. Instead, it became an escape for her. She used it to distract herself from everything that was going on. Under normal circumstances, Chandler might not have noticed this, and kept thinking everything was going to be okay, but he recognized it right away, because it was exactly what he would have done all those years ago before he and Monica were together.

He was not sure what he could do to help. Any time he tried to bring up a conversation about where they were, she would grow agitated and suddenly have an emergency at the restaurant. She would race off and not return until after everyone else had gone to sleep. He would lie there in bed, awake, listening to her as she rummaged around and changed her clothes before she disappeared again downstairs to stay up late with the television on. He found her more times in the morning asleep in the recliner than in their bed. For a brief moment, he started to worry that maybe they did not love each other enough to survive this thing that had happened to them.

He was certain that something had to change. Their lives were becoming untenable as they felt more like roommates than husband and wife. He reached out to his mother. He was not sure why he turned to her. He thought that maybe with her connections that she might be able to recommend a therapist or some grief counseling they could try together. His mother never gave any details, but she spoke for years about being in therapy herself, and she was the only person he knew who had any experience with it. They spoke on the phone for a while, longer than they had in years, and he opened up to her about what the last three months of their life had been like. He shared his fears about Monica and how frustrated he was as he felt futile in his attempts to bring her back to him.

The next day Nora Bing came to the house. He was outside playing with Jack and Erica while she spoke to Monica. He never really found out specifically what they talked about before he came back inside with the twins, but Monica seemed affected by something his mother had said to her. That night, the two of them spoke in the bathroom and she shared openly with him in a way she had not done since the miscarriage. They agreed to adopt again and made love for the first time in over three months. Later that evening, he watched her for a while as she slept in their bed, and he realized that this was the first time since they got home from the hospital that they were actually going to sleep at the same time. When he was sure she was in a deep enough sleep, he snuck out of the bedroom, went downstairs, and wept before returning to her side and falling asleep himself.

He thought everything was going to change. That they had finally gotten through it, but then, he started to feel depressed and distant. It was as if a barrier had been broken open inside him, and he did not know how to deal with the intensity of his emotions. He did not want to burden Monica with how he was feeling so soon after she had finally started to emerge from her own melancholy, and instead, he channeled all of those feelings back into the one thing that could always make him feel better. The one thing that had never failed him. He started to smoke again.

At first, he stole a drag or two after work from a borrowed cigarette. He thought nothing of it as he bummed a smoke from a coworker and took a few puffs outside the building before he started his commute home. Soon enough, he found himself sneaking outside the house at night after the twins were put to bed and while Monica was still at the restaurant to take a few hits from a loose cigarette that he brought home from work. He always made sure not to smoke too much of it at one time, knowing that, even hours later, Monica could sniff it out with very little difficulty.

But in those brief moments, when it felt as if his lungs were being wrapped up in a warm, fiery blanket, he would forget everything else he was feeling. He would be overcome with that sensation that feels like you are breathing and holding your breath at the same time as he inhaled the smoke. His mind would stop focusing on what he was feeling and instead, it would be distracted by his body as he was overcome with the sensation of useless air trying to escape his lungs as he allowed the tightness in his chest to alleviate all the worry and doubt about everything they were going through. Smoking was this little piece of heaven and hell that felt familiar and strange all at the same time. It invited him to surrender himself to the tingling aftereffects of the nicotine as it entered his system.

A week went by, and he started to smoke more and more. A few, slow, deep drags of a cigarette, turned into three smoke breaks a day. One cigarette at lunch turned into five an afternoon. A handful of cigarettes here and there turned into a pack-and-a-half a day habit. He knew he had to stop and that no amount of gum, mints, mouthwash and body spray could cover the smell and then Monica would know. Oddly enough, he was not afraid to take a tongue-lashing from her about the actual act of smoking. He was much more worried about having to talk to her and tell her why he started smoking again. At a time when it seemed things were going back to normal, and she was becoming her old self again, he felt like he was drowning. Suddenly, he was the one avoiding conversations and intimacy with his wife. He was the one who buried himself in his work and found excuses to drive into the city and spend more time away from home. He was the one who was pulling away.

It was three months into his latest smoking binge when he found himself outside his building, ready to take another cigarette out and smoke it down to the hilt, in hopes that it would help him forget about the distance that was growing between he and Monica. He wanted to bottle up those fears and doubts with the numbing agent that he held there in his hand. He lit his cigarette and took one, long, slow drag and then looked down at the pack in his hand that he purchased that morning at the newsstand in his building. Instead of providing him comfort in knowing exactly how many cigarettes he had left for the rest of the day, he became annoyed. He felt this overwhelming resentment for this pack of cigarettes as if it were holding him back and keeping him from being truly happy. Suddenly, he became very aware that these fleeting moments of mollification were a mirage; they were a lie.

Something took him over that afternoon and he started to involuntarily cough as he choked on the smoke in his lungs. It was as if this was the first time he had ever smoked, and he lost the touch and rhythm required to do it properly. He hacked away and started to spit up. He made a mess as he expectorated all over the side of the building, and he realized that this fit he was having was not due to the cigarette he was smoking. It was him. This old version of himself that he climbed into to avoid his feelings was making him sick. The one who convinced him to smoke his pain away. This person he had become that told him not to feel anything ever since that night when Monica finally opened up to him. The one who made sure he did not confide in her about his own grief; the one person in the entire world that up until that moment, he knew he always could, without reservation.

As he leaned up against the building and wheezed out another couch, he realized that the real Chandler Bing had been lying dormant, hiding inside this imposter he had become, and now he was finally awake again and pulling himself violently out of his own throat. This person was the one who trudged into Monica's apartment after their first fight in Atlantic City because he knew he couldn't lose her. He was the one who declared his love for her in front of his friends, unabashedly, even though he was not sure she would say it back to him. The one who wanted to move in with her. The one who wanted to marry her. The one who went to great lengths to get her the perfect engagement ring. The one who chased her around Manhattan and confronted Ricard because he knew they were meant for each other and he was not going to give her up without a fight. The one who would do anything for her. He was pulling himself out of hibernation, and this old, repressed, smoker he had been for these last few months had to go if he was going to be that other Chandler Bing again. He could no longer be this person who became insecure about his ability to simply talk to his wife about how he was feeling. This old, useless version of himself had to leave. Not just for now, but forever. This person was not who he wanted to be anymore.

He threw the cigarette on the ground, stomped on it for good measure, and crumpled the pack in his hand. This was not going to be how he lived his life. This was not how their relationship would be for the rest of their lives. Not after everything they had been through. Not after the way they have dealt with adversity over these last few years. Not after resolving to pay for their own wedding. Not after finding out about their infertility. Not after the awkward search for a sperm donor. Not after their initial decision to adopt. Not after he convinced Erica that they were worthy of her child. Not after they were surprised to be taking home twins. Not after their difficult move out of the city and away from their friends. Not after this latest tragic turn of events and not for any future hurdles they would have to jump over.

He called his boss as he got in his car to drive home and told him he was going to have to take the rest of the day off. He drove quickly and when he finally reached his destination, and walked into his house, Monica had leapt up in surprise and noticed immediately that he was crying. He grabbed her right there in the hallway and hugged her tightly and when she asked him what was wrong, he chuckled and smiled. It was just like when they first started on this journey together. The weight and the burden he was carrying as he attempted to bury his emotions disappeared once he realized he was safe to share them with her. A lesson he needed to learn for a second time. He swore to himself that it would be the last time.

Chandler sniffed at the cigarette again as he stood out on the back patio. He was careful and made sure to stay up against the house and away from the window so as not to be seen by Monica's watchful eye. He initially came outside for a moment of fresh air before the adoption agency consultant came to do their home inspection. When he first stepped out the door, he laughed to himself when he remembered that he used to refer to smoking as fresh air. He recalled that he had an emergency pack of cigarettes hidden underneath a loose patio stone close to the side of the house. He went over to retrieve it and after wiping off the dirt, he slipped out the one cigarette that he now held in his hand. He was certain from the smell that it had gone stale. It seemed fitting, as the habit and the reasons he started smoking had also gone stale and were no longer applicable to who he was anymore. What he was certain of in this moment is that, like this pack of cigarettes that were buried in a shallow grave under the patio, so to was the man he used to be. Buried. Gone. Dead.

He walked over to the garbage can at the end of the driveway and opened the lid, ready to dump the pack of cigarettes into it and be rid of them forever, but he paused for a moment and turned back to the stone they were hidden under which was still turned up in the backyard. He smirked and walked over, replacing the pack and burying it once again.

"Never say never."

He looked at his hands and upon seeing loose dirt along his fingertips and palms, he started to brush them together in an attempt to clean them. The backdoor opened, which startled him. Monica leaned her head out and looked around. She locked eyes with him and huffed.

"Chandler? What are you doing out here? The person from the adoption agency is going to be here in two minutes!"

"I know, I just wanted to take one last look out here and make sure everything was okay."

"Oh. Okay. That's actually a good idea. Is everything all right out here?"

Chandler stepped towards her and placed his hand on the door as he slowly entered the house. "Yes. Everything is perfect."

Monica smiled and her eyes dropped down as she looked at him. One last, quick inspection to ensure that her husband was presentable. Her smile quickly turned into a frown as she grabbed his hand and turned it over. She gasped and narrowed her eyes as she glared at him sternly. "Why are your hands so dirty!"

* * *

A/N: This is pretty much the last of the chapters that will deal directly with the aftermath of the miscarriage and the six months or so afterwards. I wanted to close them out with both of them reflecting on the time that had passed, so Monica got the last chapter, and Chandler got this one. I hope I didn't bring the tone down too much, or dwell on it for too long, but I felt it was important to explore it and not brush it off or gloss over it. Plus, it was kind of a personal arc for me and I guess I needed to finish it right in order for it to get out of my head.

I tried to break up the chapters that are more introspective or sorrowful with some lighthearted moments, and I jumped around just a bit so we didn't experience the months of depression and recovery firsthand, but saw it as the two of them got these small moments of retrospection. I hope it worked.

The final few chapters of part 2 of this post-series story will deal with the adoption process, Monica being on Joey's TV show, and a wedding! So, humor and happy times ahead. As always, thanks for taking the time to read.


	31. Welcome to the Crazy House

**Welcome to the Crazy House**

Monica and Chandler share a brief, apprehensive glance with each other when they hear a knock on the door and they both slowly begin to stand up as the two of them focus their attention outside the room.

"This is it!" Monica instinctively reaches out for Chandler's hand and wraps her fingers around his.

Chandler exhales and shakes his upper body as if he were trying to shuffle off his anxious energy. "Okay. We've been through this before. No need to be nervous."

Monica shoots him a sharp glare as her face becomes scornful. "I'm not nervous. I don't get nervous!"

"Then why is the circulation in my hand getting cut off?" Chandler motions towards his hand, which is still held tight in her grasp.

Monica looks down and smiles apologetically as she loosens her grip on Chandler's hand. "Okay, why don't you stay here with Jack and Erica and I'll answer the door."

"Okay."

Monica turns to walk out of the den and Chandler tugs on her hand.

"You have to let go of me first."

Monica sinks into her shoulders as a sheepish smile spreads across her lips. She releases her grasp on his hand and steps out of the room, disappearing into the hallway.

Chandler turns to face Erica. "Okay kiddo, you ready?"

Erica looks up at her father from her pile of toys and smiles. "eddy?"

"Close enough." He turns to look at Jack, who is in the corner of the room. He is pressing down repetitively on one key of his toy piano, making it play the same note over and over. "How about you Jack?"

Jack doesn't turn to look at his father, and instead presses a different button on his musical toy which causes it to mimic the sound of an electric guitar.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Monica enters the room with an older woman and smiles. "Chandler? This is Cynthia Davis. She's the social worker who is going to do the home study today."

Chandler reaches his hand out and nervously smiles. "Hi, how are you, how you doing? I'm Chandler. Chandler Bing. Hi. How are you? Chandler."

Monica leans over and softly speaks into his shoulder. "Take it down a notch."

Cynthia smiles and nods. "Please. There's no need to be nervous. I just have some questions and forms to fill out and then a quick tour. You two have done this before, so it shouldn't be anything new for you."

"Right. Sure. We're pros at adoption. I could adopt a baby with my eyes closed." Chandler's smile flattens out as he second guesses the words that just came out of his mouth. "Not that I would do anything with a baby with my eyes closed. I would be fully alert and paying attention at all times." Suddenly, there's a crash from the corner of the room as Jack pushes the toy piano, causing it to fall on the floor. "Well, that's unfortunate timing."

Monica shakes her head and Cynthia chuckles. "Please. Relax. That's fine. These are the twins you adopted last year?"

Monica rolls her eyes as Chandler hops further into the room to attend to Jack. "Actually, it is almost two years now. They were born in May. That's Jack making the mess," She bends down and picks up Erica, who squirms a bit in her arms. "and this wiggle-worm is Erica." Monica looks down at her daughter that she holds in her arms and gestures with her head at Cynthia. "Can you say hello Erica?"

Erica looks at the woman and buries her face into Monica's chest as she half-waves in Cynthia's direction.

"Sorry, she's being shy. She knows how to wave hello and goodbye though? Right?" Erica grunts a bit and then waves her hand more emphatically.

Cynthia smiles at Erica and then looks back at Monica. "Time flies, huh? My youngest is already twelve. Enjoy it now, it goes so fast and then all they want to do is become a teenager."

Monica looks down at Erica and then glances at Jack. "I know. I can't believe they're already walking and talking."

"You both feel like you're ready for another baby?"

"We think so. We always talked about having a big family. It feels like the right time."

Cynthia nods and looks around the room. She gestures towards the coffee table. "Why don't we start with the questionnaire and fill out some forms and then maybe you can show me around."

Monica leads her over to the couch. "Sure, sure. Do you want anything? Coffee? Tea? Water?"

"No, I'm fine." They sit down as Chandler makes his way over after he finishes setting Jack's toy back upright.

"Okay, so, maybe we will go over some safety questions first. I can already tell you probably have most of the home baby-proofed." Cynthia runs her hand over one of the soft rubber bumpers along the corner of the table. "And I have to ask, are these color-coded?"

Monica beams and nods. "Why thank you for noticing. I have these clear ones for the table, and over there, the brown ones are for the corners on the wall and then over here, I have red and blue on the electronics and lamps. I have a three-page list of what color goes where. Do you want to see it?"

"Oh, that won't be necessary."

"I'll take it out and show you. I have a copy for you anyway." Monica reaches over and picks up a binder that was resting in front of her on the table. She snaps it open and pulls out a sheet.

Cynthia looks at the size of the binder and her eyes go wide. "Oh my. That's a big book you have there."

"I know!"

Chandler puts his hand on Monica's shoulder and leans in towards her as he places a kiss on her cheek. "Honey? Maybe take it down a notch?"

Monica shoots Chandler a glare and Cynthia smiles as she looks down. "Okay, well, let's see." She pulls out a form from her folder and starts to write on it. "Do you have any firearms in the house?"

"Just these." Chandler makes finger guns with his hands and starts to pretend to shoot them as he winks.

Cynthia looks over at him, slightly confused as Monica shudders and groans. "I'm sorry. After a little while, you won't even notice it anymore."

* * *

Chandler grabs the empty dish in front of Erica and tussles her hair. "Nice work on lunch baby girl." He turns to look at Jack. "What about you kiddo? You still have a lot left on your plate. You used to eat everything in record time buddy." Jack pushes the plate and starts to reach his arms up, signaling he wants to get out of his chair. "Can you eat a little more buddy?" Jack, ignoring his father, continues to stretch and reach with his hands.

Chandler's head turns a bit as he hears Monica and Cynthia make their way downstairs after touring the second floor. He can hear them talking to each other but can't quite make out what they are saying. Monica though, sounds cheerful, so he imagines Cynthia must have complimented her on how organized the linen closets are.

They enter the kitchen and Cynthia smiles at the twins. Monica slowly lifts her eyebrows at her husband and Chandler nods in response. In those two simple gestures, the two were able to have an entire conversation. Both of them, immediately on the same page.

"I take it everything went well up there?"

"Yes Mr. Bing. You both have a very nice home and a great space for another baby. And I must say, I don't think I ever saw sheets organized by manufacturer."

"No one has. That's not supposed to be a thing."

Cynthia chuckles. "Well, in any regard, your house is really well suited for more children. You did a wonderful job here."

Thanks. We try our best."

Monica shakes her head and laughs to herself as she walks behind him. "We?"

"You know you don't let me help."

Before Monica can respond, the two of them snap their heads up as the house fills with a loud, frantic knocking originating from the front door.

Monica looks at Chandler. "That's funny. We weren't expecting company. You told Joey we were going to be busy, right?"

"Yes! I told everyone. Joey, Ross, Rachel, Phoebe. They all know we are busy today."

The door swings open as Chandler's father's voice can be heard ringing through the house! "Son! Son! It's an emergency! We need your help."

Monica looks over at Chandler and folds her arms. "Did you tell your father?"

Chandler steps quickly out of the kitchen towards the front of the house. "I may not have told my father."

As Chandler strides quickly down the hall, his father and five other men, that Chandler can only assume are some of his performers, push through the front door and pile into the living room.

Helena is dressed in tight fitting purple chinos with clean white shoes that point at the toe. She has a white blouse and a purple kerchief wrapped around her hair. Each of the other men who arrived with Chandler's father are wearing wig caps, robes, sweatpants, and heels. Everyone looks like they are in the middle of a costume change backstage instead of in a suburban home on a Saturday afternoon. "Chandler! Thank god you're here! We need your help!"

"Uh, I'm kind of in the middle of something dad."

"So are we! A catastrophe!"

Monica pokes her head out from the kitchen and looks down the hallway. "Chandler? Dear? What's going on?"

"Uh, it's a, ah, delivery! Yes, and I am just going to sign for it and send the driver on his way!" Chandler grabs his father by the arm and walks him quickly into the living room.

Helena looks over her shoulder as she furrows her brow. "Chandler? What's going on?"

"We're having the home study today! The social worker who is basically going to decide if we should be recommend as adoptive parents is right in the kitchen! What are you doing here?"

"Marsha quit on us! She went back out to Vegas!"

Chandler mocks a gasp and puts his hands on his face. "Oh no, not Marsha!" He then drops his hands. "Who's Marsha?"

"She is in the second act of the show."

Chandler raises up a stern finger. "I am not going to be in your show! I stopped doing that after high school! I still can't listen to Y.M.C.A. without thinking about it."

"No, no. We have plenty of coverage for that. But Marsha also did our eyebrows." Helena gestures towards the other men in the room. "Look at my girls! It's like they have big hairy caterpillars on their faces!"

Chandler looks out at the worried faces in his living-room. "Dad! I can't do this now. Why don't you just go to a salon or something?"

"Son! You know you're the fastest and best eyebrow groomer in the tri-state area! If we went to one of those salons, we would never make it to the theater in time for our show!"

Chandler flashes his father an aggrieved look but then quickly spins around as he hears a pair of footsteps approach from behind. "Chandler?" Monica steps towards him with a confused look on her face. Jack and Erica waddle behind her with a bemused Cynthia bringing up the rear.

Chandler begins to gesticulate nervously and allows a nervous smile to spread across his lips. "Hey! Hi! How are you? How's it going? Everything okay?"

Monica folds her arms impatiently. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing. No one is in the living room, if that's what you're wondering. Everything is normal."

Monica turns to look in the living room and gasps as she sees what appears to be a roomful of men in their robes. She turns to face her husband and lets out an exasperated sigh. "Chandler!"

Erica, seeing her grandfather, quickens her pace towards him with her arms out while Jack turns sharply and runs back over to the toy piano he was playing with before in the den across the hallway.

"Chandler! Why is the cast of Kinky Boots in my living room?"

"What? Do you think I invited them?"

Helena picks up Erica and looks back-and-forth between Chandler and Monica. "You two saw Kinky Boots?"

Monica rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Chandler made us rent it from the video store."

"What? I thought it was a dirty movie!"

Monica shudders and then takes a deep breath. "Dad, what are you doing here?"

Cynthia points her finger at Helena and her forehead wrinkles in confusion. "I'm sorry, this is your father?"

Chandler nods reluctantly. "Yes. And he was just about to leave."

Helena nuzzles Erica's neck as she grips her grandfather tightly. "I'm sorry Monica. I had no idea. The girls here have an eyebrow emergency."

"Okay, but why are you here?"

"Chandler is the best eyebrow man I know."

Monica looks over at Chandler and raises a suspicious eyebrow. "What?"

"He used to do it for my performers when he was in high school. It was kind of his afterschool job. Nobody was better or faster at cleaning up our eyebrows as your man here."

"Really?" Monica, armed with this new information about her husband, smiles at him as if she were about to consume his humiliation like a decadent dessert.

Chandler rolls his eyes and then looks over her shoulder. "Sorry Cynthia. We weren't expecting visitors."

Monica winces, as she had momentarily forgotten all about the social worker who was standing behind her. She quickly turns around to face her. "I'm so sorry."

Cynthia smiles and shakes her head. "No need. It is good to see what the day-to-day goings on in the home are like."

Chandler puts his hands up nervously. "Oh, but this isn't normal."

"How often do you have this many visitors, in, uh, just their robes."

Chandler looks down and shakes his head. "Well, they are wearing sweatpants too."

Monica shakes her head and walks across the hall so she can peek into the den and check on Jack.

Helena smiles at Erica as she tries to put her down, but Erica refuses to let go and Helena picks her back up again.

Cynthia smiles. "She really seems to love her grandpa, or is it grandma? Or, uh, I'm sorry, I'm just so confused."

The doorbell rings and Monica turns her head to shoot Chandler an aggravated look. He shrugs his shoulders in response. He walks over to the door and opens it slowly. "Mom?"

"Chandler! I'm so glad you're home." Nora Bing bustles past her son but stops short when she notices the crowd of people in the house.

"Mom? What are you doing here?"

Monica steps out and smiles as she looks at her mother-in-law. "Yes Nora, what are you doing here?"

"My agent died."

Chandler looks around and then back at his mother. "Uh, okay. Are you here to grieve or something?"

"Oh, it's fine. I hardly speak to the man. They just want me to make a speech at his wake. Most of his clients are flying in and I thought before I got settled in the city, I would surprise my grandchildren with a visit. Isn't that great news?"

Chandler purses his lips. "That your agent died?"

"Oh, he was very old son." Nora Bing waves her son off and shakes her head. "Now, aren't you going to invite me in?"

Why not. You wouldn't happen to have a mariachi band with you too, would you?"

Nora looks at her son with a confused expression. "I never really got your sense of humor. You are so lucky to have Monica."

Cynthia gasps as Nora walks into the house. "Oh my, you're Nora Bing!"

Nora smiles. "Yes. And you are?"

Chandler puts his hand on his mother's back as he leads her into the house. "Mom. This is Cynthia Davis. She is the social worker doing our home study today. She is trying to determine if we have a safe, normal home that's not filled with drag queens and smut novelists who are totally detached from human empathy."

Cynthia approaches Nora and begins to gush. "Oh my, I am such a fan!"

"Oh, that's wonderful. It is always nice to meet a fan."

"Oh yes. I have read all your books. The last one, oh my. I had to read all the chapters about Rodrigo sitting on my washing machine while it was on the spin cycle, if you know what I mean." Cynthia stiffens up and then looks around the room. "Oh my, I'm sorry. That was so unprofessional."

Chandler slowly closes the door behind him. "Well, then, you'll fit right in here."

* * *

Ross stands up from his seat and walks around the end of the orange couch towards the counter to get his coffee mug refilled. "Oh my god. I can't believe it."

Chandler nods and looks over at Monica. She pats him on the leg and turns to face her brother, letting her hand linger on Chandler's thigh. "That isn't even the end of it. A few minutes later, Joey shows up with the woman who books restaurants for the show. He said they were there to fill out some paperwork so they could film at 'Four' next month, but, it turns out, she is that girl he's been sleeping with who works with him."

Rachel gasps and starts to snicker as she covers her mouth. "Noooooo."

Chandler mocks a laugh. "Oh yes. And we are pretty sure he really just wanted to use our laundry room to have sex."

Rachel, unable to contain herself, laughs out loud as she shakes her head. "Oh my. Now wait a minute, isn't that the same one from last year?"

Monica nods. "The producer's daughter? Yeah."

"They're still sneaking around?"

Ross chuckles as he walks up to the counter to grab a refill of his coffee. "That must have been so embarrassing. You two really have to think these things out. Consider every possible outcome. That's what I do, but that's probably because of my training as a scientist."

Chandler rolls his eyes and Monica shakes her head while she grits her teeth, bristling under her brother's criticism.

Ross thanks the server and starts to walk back over to the couch. "No, I'm serious. You have to treat everything like a scientific experiment. Examine all the variables."

Rachel sits back and gestures towards Ross with her thumb. "At least you guys don't have to live with this."

Ross shakes his head, but then stops mid-step as a wave of recognition falls across his face. He looks over at a woman sitting next to one of the high-top tables and points at her. She looks up him, nervously, with a flash of concern in her eyes.

Ross squints his eyes and bounces his finger in her direction. "Hey, aren't you Miss Gianatti? I think my son Ben is in your class."

The woman looks up and flashes a quick, relieved smile. "Oh, uh, Ben Geller?"

"Yeah! I'm his father."

She nods. "Yes. Oh, okay. He's a great kid."

"I thought that was you, I have pictures of you all over my apartment."

"Uh, what?"

"Yeah, I probably see your face every day before I go to bed."

"Uhhh…..what?"

"Oh no! No. Not like that. I mean, because of the class photos we have up on our wall."

"Oh, uh..."

Ross sets his coffee on the table next to her. "I just want to be clear. I don't have pictures of you in my apartment that I stare at like some creep. I stare at them the appropriate amount."

"I'm sorry, you stare at them?"

"No, no! I didn't mean like that. I sometimes look at them, when I walk by them. But I don't look at you. I look at the kids."

Rachel waves her hands emphatically. "Oh Ross, stop talking!"

Chandler sinks back comfortably into the couch. "Way to think that one out my man. That wasn't embarrassing at all."

Rachel covers her face in embarrassment, but then shake her head and reaches out towards Monica. "Everything went well though? With the visit?"

"Yeah, we got a call last week and we are officially on the waiting list. Now we just need to wait for someone to pick us."

Rachel claps her hands and stretches across to hug Monica tightly. "Oh, I'm so happy for you guys!" Rachel sits back again and wipes a tear from her eye. "It's so great. Everything is working out."

Monica and Chandler look at each other, their eyes betray a slight bit of worried anxiousness. Monica raises her hand to Chandler's cheek and smiles at him as she gently caresses his face. "Yeah, everything is great."

* * *

Monica closes the door behind Cynthia and then turns to Chandler. "Well, I guess that went poorly."

"Honey, it's us. That was a success as far as I am concerned."

"She seemed happy though, right?"

"As happy as someone could be with what happened here today."

"She's going to approve us. I know it."

Chandler walks over to her and slides his hands around her waist. "Okay, let's just relax. We don't want to get ahead of ourselves."

"No Chandler. Really. She saw all the love that we have in this house, even with all the chaos."

"Right, but they're also looking at our finances, and the neighborhood, and.."

"Chandler! This is going to happen for us!"

Chandler laughs and lets a slow, half-smile linger on his lips before leaning in to kiss her. "You're right."

Monica looks down as a satisfied grin spreads across her lips. "of course, I'm right." The two of them then turn their attention to the den where Erica and Jack are playing. Erica's tongue slips in and out of her lips as she stacks blocks. Once she gets four of them on top of each other, she quickly swipes at the base, knocking them back down and giggling.

Monica chuckles to herself and slaps Chandler on the chest as they separate from their hug. "She did not learn that from me."

"Don't look at me. That's got to be all Joey."

Chandler looks across the room and sees Jack, back at his piano playing the same note over and over, seemingly uninterested in everything else going on in the room. He looks back at Erica and smiles. "What do you guys think? Are you ready to be an older brother and sister?"

Monica smiles and looks at Erica. "What do you say wiggle worm? You like the idea of being a big sister?" Erica looks up at her mother and smiles as she waves at her. "No honey, not bye-bye." She shakes her head as she looks up at Chandler. "Ugh, ever since we taught her that it is all she does."

"I know." Chandler looks at Jack. "Hey Jack, what do you say? You ready to be a big brother soon?"

Jack doesn't seem to notice his father calling him. Instead, he continues pressing down on the same piano key over and over.

Chandler gets down to one knee and reaches out for his son. "Hey! Jack! Come here, buddy!"

Jack, still ignoring him, only presses down harder and more repetitively than before.

Monica and Chandler look at each other and Chandler walks over to Jack. He sits down next to him. "Jack?" Jack continues to focus all his attention on the piano.

Chandler finally reaches out and gently grabs Jack to turn him around. Jack looks at his father and smiles as he makes eye contact but then turns back to his toy.

"Hey buddy, everything okay?" Chandler takes his son's hands and tries to redirect his body to face him, but Jack starts to grunt and whine as he squirms out of Chandler's grasp. Chandler looks up nervously at Monica as Jack returns his attention to the toy piano and presses down faster and faster on the same key.

As the piano sounds off louder and louder, filling the room, Chandler turns to look at Monica and she shares his confused, fearful expression. The two of them turn their attention back to Jack, who appears locked into his own little world, where only he and the toy piano exist.


	32. Yeah

**Yeah**

Chandler lowered the dial on the electric griddle as he slid his spatula underneath a pancake to flip it over. He took a moment to look over his shoulder at his two children to check and make sure they were staying out of trouble. Jack and Erica were next to the kitchen table, strapped into their highchairs. He wondered how much longer they would be able to secure the twins into place like this, as he and Monica attempted to garner themselves a moments respite from their children's constant movement. How many more days did they have left where they would be able to keep one eye on them while making breakfast? They were getting too big. Too big for their chairs, too big for their clothes. Too big for he and Monica to keep up with. He smirked as he shook his head at the thought that they were going to be two years old in another month.

If he were being honest, the twins were already a handful before they could even walk. One of them always needing attention, or falling, or making a mess. These last two years have been a chaotic ballet as he and Monica tried to keep their heads above water. And now, they were waiting and hoping to hear from the adoption agency that someone would pick them, and bestow upon them the gift of a third child. He chuckled to himself at the thought of how stupid they must be to attempt that.

"Your mother and I are going to be outnumbered. Do you know that?"

He turned his head again to see if his children were even aware that he was with them in the kitchen. When he looked at them, he half-expected the two of them to be much more interested in the fruit they were eating or what toys they had to play with while they waited for their pancakes. To his surprise, Erica was staring right at him.

"Hey babygirl, everything okay?"

"I wan' garbage truck."

"What?" Chandler placed a few more small pancakes on a plate and then poured more batter onto the griddle.

"Truck!"

Chandler pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders as he turned to lean his back on the counter and face his daughter. "You want a garbage truck?"

"Yeah."

"For your birthday?"

"Yeah."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Is 'yeah' the only answer you can give to me right now?"

"Yeah."

"Good to know. Your mother will be thrilled. She loves garbage."

"Yeah."

Chandler chuckled again and shook his head as he turned his attention back to the griddle and flipped over the second round of pancakes.

Erica was talking more and more these last few months, yet, she could still get stuck on "yeah" as a response to every question asked of her. She has been unpredictable over the last six months. Playing with trucks and cars as opposed to the doll Monica's mother had bought her. She was a bit rough, and played recklessly; usually resulting in toys strewn everywhere by the end of the day. She was this weird mix of both her parents; Monica's brash physicality with Chandler's lack of self-awareness. Her latest obsession though, has been the weekly garbage pick-up. She would compel one of her parents to open the door so she could watch as the truck came to the front of the house and the men collected their trash. Her eyes lit up every time she heard them coming down the block. Like some grotesque Pavlovian response to garbage that most children reserved for the ice cream man.

Chandler smiled and nodded at his daughter. "Okay. Garbage truck it is."

He turned his attention to Jack who was furiously flipping through pages of a picture book. Lately, he seemed to need to have it with him at all times. Bedtime, mealtime, out at the park. Wherever Jack went, that book would follow. Monica had to resort to keeping it in a Ziplock bag during his bath to avoid a tantrum in the tub. He would stop at a page and jab his finger at the colorful characters, vocalizing some series of noises and squeals before flipping through the book again. Jack, while never quite as talkative as his sister, would not have missed an opportunity to join Erica in a chorus of "yeahs" as he would assist her in confounding their parents with their ubiquitous one-word answer. Lately though, he doesn't speak at all. No mama, no dada, not even Elmo, which for a time, seemed to be his favorite word. He had grown quiet, save for the occasional vocalization where his voice would travel up and down from low hums to high squeals.

Chandler offered him a half-smile. "What about you Jack?"

Erica nodded to herself as she focused her attentions on the bowl of grapes in front of her. "Jack wan' truck."

Chandler laughed and turned his attention back to the pancakes cooking on the griddle. "I don't think so baby. I don't think Jack likes playing with trucks. He's more of a book lover."

Erica looked at her father. Her face turned red as she wrinkled her brow. "Truck!"

"Uh, Erica? Is that your poop face or your angry face?"

"Yeah."

"Great. Thanks for clearing that up."

Chandler reached into the cupboard to take out some plates.

"Jack wan' truck."

"Yeah. I heard you kiddo."

Chandler laughed as he placed two dishes with cut up pancake in front of his children.

"Dig in."

Erica reached out for him and as he bent down to get closer to her, she squeezed his nose. She started to laugh and squealed as she let out one last, giggly "yeah" before focusing her attention on her breakfast.

Chandler crouched down next to Jack's seat and pushed his plate a little closer to him. "Hey buddy, time to eat."

Jack looked up at Chandler and smiled as they made eye contact. He then arranged his book and plate so he could look at a page while he ate. Appearing like a little old man reading the paper as he eats his breakfast. Chandler couldn't help but laugh at the image. For all the worrying he and Monica have been doing over their son's changed behavior these last few weeks, Jack still had the ability to disarm them by making them laugh.

For the most part, both of their children were happy, the occasional tantrum aside. They laughed a lot, smiled, and reached out for hugs. They played together well and never fought over toys or made each other cry. They enjoyed baths and hardly fussed at bedtime. Chandler considered he and Monica to be very lucky as he shuddered when he thought of what Rachel's daughter Emma was like as a baby.

He reached over and ran his fingers through Jack's hair as he exhaled through his lips. "Just talk to me Jack. I'll buy you a car if you tell me that's what you want."

Erica mumbled "truck" again through a mouthful of pancake.

Chandler stood up as he heard Monica scurry down the stairs. She rushed through the house and burst into the kitchen, looking like a bundle of nervous energy. She barely took the time to make eye contact with Chandler before she crashed into him with a quick kiss and a breathless "morning sweetie". She then gave each of her children a quick peck on the tops of their head while they ate and walked over to kitchen counter. She lifted up the coffee pot so she could fill her travel mug.

Chandler walked over and held out a plate with a stack of pancakes on it in front of her. "I made breakfast."

Monica offered a weak smile and shook her head. "I don't have time." She then reached over and grabbed a pancake from the plate. She folded it in half and quickly devoured it in three bites.

"Honey, I think we're going to be rich. I just invented pancakes that you can inhale!"

Monica slumped her shoulders and flattened her lips as she rolled her eyes at her husband. "I've got to get to the restaurant. Joey's production crew is going to be there to set up in a little over an hour and I need to make sure the place is perfect."

"Isn't that why you were there until 2am last night?"

"I have to make sure nothing got messed up since then!"

Chandler checked his watch. "In five hours? With no one else in there since you left? Honey, could anything have really gotten messed up?"

Erica slapped her hand down on the tray of her chair as she reached for her cup. "Yeah."

Monica nodded and walked over to give Erica another kiss on her forehead "Thank you, Erica. At least someone has some sense in this house."

Jack looked up when he heard his mother's voice and grunted before he let out a happy squeal.

"Oh, hi baby." Monica gave him a kiss as well. "I'm happy to see you too, but I have to go to work." Monica tickled at him under his chin. She smiled at the two of them before she rushed back over to the counter.

"Are you sure you'll be okay? Because I can call my mom or someone to come over and help out." Monica reached over and took another pancake, quickly nibbling at it as she finished preparing her coffee.

Chandler puffed out his chest. "Are you kidding me? I'll be fine. I am perfectly capable of taking care of these two and keeping the house in order all on my own."

Monica turned to face him and stared at him with a pair of skeptical eyes as she put her hand on her hip.

Chandler nodded back in sheepish surrender. "I'll call your mom if I need help."

Monica laughed and then her face dropped as she started looking around the room.

"Where's Joey! He should be up by now! Doesn't he know we start taping in six hours!" She swallowed down the last of the pancake she had in her hand and grabbed one more from the plate.

As if on cue, thundering footsteps could be heard trudging down the stairs as both Monica and Chandler focused their eyes on the entranceway to the kitchen. Monica huffed before Joey even reached the room.

"Joey! Why are you not up and dressed already! You're going to be late!"

"What? No I'm not."

"But everyone is going to be there in an hour!"

"Not me." Joey walked over to Monica and gave her a cocky smile. "What you have to understand is, I'm the talent. And as the star of the show, I don't go anywhere before noon."

Chandler smirked. "Joe, even before you were 'the star of the show', you didn't go anywhere before noon."

Joey waved his hand dismissively at him. "Look, everyone knows that the person who is actually on camera needs to be well rested."

"Yeah."

"See? Erica gets it."

"She's not even two yet Joe. She'd say 'yeah' if you asked her who the president was." Chandler shook his head as he turned to look at his daughter. "Honey, Don't encourage your uncle Joe."

Joey stretched and let out a yawn. "I won't get there until twelve. But the producer will be there and they'll have everything set up."

Monica pointed her finger at Joey. "Don't be late."

"I won't. Yeesh."

Monica turned to Chandler. "Okay, I have to go, I lover you. Call my mom! But not too early or she'll think I left the house a wreck for you and never let me live it down. But not too late either or she might think I told you not to call her early and she'll get suspicious." She gave him another quick kiss and then scurried across to plant one last peck on Erica and Jack's heads. "Bye babies, Mommy is going to miss you, be good for daddy okay?"

Erica, without looking up from her breakfast lets out another low "yeah" as Monica ran out of the kitchen, flew down the hall, and exited the house.

Chandler scratched at the back of his head. "Well, those instructions weren't confusing."

Joey walked over to the counter as he stretched again and grabbed a cup to fill with coffee. He looked over and smiled when he saw the stack of pancakes. "Don't mind if I do." He threw a few pancakes on a plate and sat down at the kitchen table. "Wow. She is pretty wound up, huh?"

"Well, Joe, she is excited. This could be big for her getting Four on TV. To be honest, the restaurant isn't exactly turning in a profit."

Joey shoved a forkful of pancake into his mouth. "Trust me. Every place that gets on my show has seen a big boom. I call it 'The Joey Bump'. It's guaranteed to make Four a hit. Monica just has to relax."

"I'm sorry, did you just meet Monica."

"I know, it's just, she can be a bit much. I don't know how that will come across on camera."

"Ha! This is 7am Monica. If you can't handle that I don't know how you will handle her when the taping actually starts."

"She's going to be worse?"

Erica slid her plate forward on her tray. "Yeah."

Joey looked at Erica. "But she knows that she just has to do her whole chef thing, and forget about the pressure right? Her food will look great on TV."

"Yeah."

"I mean, would you be nervous?"

"Yeah."

"Well that makes sense, you're just a baby. I mean, you aren't even two years old yet! Of course you'd be nervous to be on television for the first time. But your mom is hot. Hot people belong on TV."

"Yeah."

Joey turned to look at Chandler and nodded at him with a sage look on his face as he gestured towards Erica. "She is so wise."

Chandler shook his head as a dumbfounded expression spread across his face. "I have no idea how you survived this long on your own."

Joey nodded and smiled. He looked over at Jack.

"Hey, morning buddy."

Joey put his hand up and made a fist. Jack without looking up, quickly hit Joey's fist with his own hand. Chandler smiled at that. Joey didn't miss a beat with Jack. The last time Joey visited, Jack had a few words and said hi and even almost said something that sounded like "Joe". Now, knowing he isn't talking, Joey adapted quickly to high fives, hugs and handshakes as a form of communication.

Erica reached her hands out as she pushed her plate even further forward. "More."

"You read my mind little girl!" Joey sprung up, grabbed a stack of pancakes, cut two of them up for the twins and then threw three more on his plate.

He stepped over to Chandler on his way back to the table and spoke softly as he leaned into his shoulder. "So, uh, what have you guys decided to do about Jack?"

"Well, we did some research."

"You mean Monica did some research."

Erica squeaked out another "yeah" before shoving a small piece of pancake into her mouth.

Chandler turned to look at Erica. "Hey, I turned on the computer."

Joey stared at Chandler "Yeah, but that was just to make sure she didn't see your…" he covered his face, shielding himself from the twins. "P-O-R-N."

Chandler shook his head and rolled his eyes. "We have a child psychologist coming to evaluate him next week. Just to make sure he is keeping up with development at his age."

Joey walked over to the kitchen table, sat down, and turned to look at Jack. "I'll tell you kiddo, I never kept up with development, and look at me now!"

Chandler chuckled "Yeah, you developed all right."

Joey looked at himself and smiled proudly, oblivious to Chandler's playful jab. "Thanks man."

Joey got up and took more coffee from the pot. "So, uh, I guess Monica won't be too happy when I tell her that I need her to talk me up to the producer."

"What?"

"Well, he knows his daughter is seeing someone. I think we might have to come clean soon before he finds out on his own. I need Monica to tell him what a great guy I am. You know, to soften the blow. This is going to be my last chance since they fly out tonight after taping and I leave for L.A. in the morning. I need her to make him want his daughter to go out with me."

"Haven't you been working for him for, like, two years? Doesn't he already know you well enough to make that decision?"

"No. Somehow I think he got the wrong impression of me."

"How did that happen?"

"I slept with three assistants, two associate producers, and a PA."

Chandler ran his hand over his face and let out an exasperated sigh.

"Wait. Didn't you and his daughter start going out right after you go this show?"

"Not for the first month."

"Unbelievable."

"I know. I couldn't believe how slow it was for me either."

"Joey. You can't do this to Monica. She has enough to worry about."

Joey stuffed a large piece of pancake in his mouth. "I'm not asking her to lie, I just need her to slip into the conversation about how good I am to women. How I'm loyal, respectful and committed."

"I'm sorry. I thought you said you weren't going to ask her to lie."

"Come on Chandler. She's the only one who can do this for me. I know that if he hears good stuff about me from a woman, he will keep an open mind when we tell him we are going out. Is that too much to ask for?"

Erica took a sip from her cup and nodded. "Yeah."

Joey turned to look at Erica. "But, Monica…uh, I mean, your mom, has always talked to me about one day being ready to settle down."

"Yeah."

"Yeah. And now, I think maybe I found to girl to do that with."

"Yeah."

Chandler brought his hands up to cover his face as he could not help himself but groan at the conversation unfolding before him.

"Oh yeah Erica. She's smart, but not like, in a way that makes me feel bad. And she's funny, but not like your dad who tells jokes no one really gets."

"Yeah."

"I see. He told you some jokes too huh?"

"Yeah."

Chandler gesticulated as he stumbled on his words before gathering the wherewithal to speak.

"What? Erica, I make you laugh all the time!"

"Yeah."

Chandler nodded and folded his arms, satisfied with her answer. Joey leaned in closer to Erica.

"You just said that so his feelings wouldn't get hurt, right?"

"Yeah."

"You're a good daughter."

"Yeah."

Joey stood up and stretched as he put the last piece of pancake on his plate into his mouth. He walked over to the coffee pot to top off his cup.

"Well, I think my work here is done. I'm going to take a shower."

"Don't be late Joe. And please don't put Monica in between you and your producer. That isn't fair to her. And don't put me in between you and Monica. Because I'll have to pick her. She sleeps with me."

Joey reluctantly nodded and then walked out of the kitchen.

Chandler sighed and shook his head. He looked at Erica and Jack and gestured towards the entranceway of the kitchen.

"All this before breakfast. Let me just grab some pancakes and I'll join you two before the chaos starts."

Chandler walked over to the kitchen counter and huffed as he saw an empty plate where his stack of pancakes used to be.

"Or, maybe I'll just have a cup of coffee."

He walked over to the coffee pot and lifted it up to find it empty.

"This is going to be a long day. Isn't it?"

Erica flapped her hands around on her tray and knocked her sippy cup to the ground.

"Yeah."


	33. Lights! Camera! Action?

**Lights! Camera! Action?**

"You want me to what!"

Monica stared at Joey with righteous indignation in her eyes. She was not happy. Not in the least.

Thanks to all of her efforts, everything had been going perfectly up to this moment. She willed this day into perfection. She had to. She knew that it had to be perfect. This was going to be the single most important day for Monica's restaurant "Four" since she opened its doors almost a year ago. The exposure that Joey's show would provide her little bistro could determine if she was going to be a lasting success or if she would be another in a long line of businesses that crashed and faded away, disappearing from Main Street U.S.A. forever.

She and her restaurant manager Geoffrey were planning this day out for months. They had studied the trends of similar restaurants in the area, and in comparing Four to her competition, she knew that the numbers were not good. Her revenues had been in steady decline and they were set to end their first year in business with a bigger loss than they had forecasted. Even though her benefactor, Nora Bing, was not putting any pressure on Monica to succeed, she was putting enough of it on herself for the both of them.

The thought of Four possibly failing would have been enough to send her into a panic for most of the winter if Joey hadn't offered to shoot an episode of his Food Network show there. Ever since that wonderful surprise last Thanksgiving, she had been counting down the weeks until this day arrived. Between that and everything she and Chandler had been doing in their attempts to adopt a third child, she had very little time to devote to a meltdown over her sales.

It also helped that Geoffrey had gotten some information and data from the other restaurants that Joey's show had filmed at; most of them saw an immediate impact right after the episode they were featured in aired. Unfortunately, more than half of them also saw a decline after their initial bump. Monica was determined that wouldn't happen to Four. That it wouldn't happen to her. She was going to reestablish her foothold in this town, and do whatever she could to keep at least seventy percent of her increased customer base, even though Geoffrey told her that she only needed to keep fifty percent to actually turn a profit in year two. Monica wouldn't hear it. Fifty percent was losing as far as she was concerned.

She made sure that she arrived at the restaurant before eight. She cleaned the entire place from top to bottom, even though she had already ensured that it was spotless the night before. She hung some new artwork and set up fresh flowers as centerpieces on each table. Once she was satisfied with the aesthetics of her dining area, she took a quick inventory of the stock room and walk-in refrigerator. She then took time to go over her recipes for the dishes she was going make on Joey's show, even though she had already memorized exactly how she would present each one. She knew she had to make sure that her food looked unique, but were also not too intimidating to the casual diner, and more importantly, something that wouldn't scare off Joey. She still remembers the time she tried to serve him escargots à la bourguignonne and how he ran from her apartment in terror once he discovered that he was eating snails.

Her first course was going to be the mac and cheese empanadas with white truffle oil. It was Chandler's favorite thing on her entire menu, and she knew Joey would love it as well. It was basically her version of fancy fried stuff with cheese, his absolute favorite. Then she was going to bring out the salad which would have sliced tomatoes, mixed greens, feta cheese, goat cheese, pesto and caramelized onions. She was going to put a few pieces of thinly sliced hanger steak on top, to fool Joey into eating it. Thanks to years of experience at feeding him, she knew that the only way to get him to eat anything green without a complaint, was to make sure there was meat on it. For the main dish she was going to prepare her fried chicken with prosciutto and melted provolone, served with a creamy yellow chili sauce, cilantro chimichurri and pickled onions. Finally, for dessert, she was going to bring out her fried Oreo cookies with raspberry sauce. Joey was probably going to die right there in the restaurant from food induced ecstasy in front of all the cameras. She couldn't wait. She knew once the show aired, everyone who saw it was going to want to come to her restaurant to see the super chef in action. She wondered if maybe it would make the papers too.

With the restaurant clean and the menu set, Monica's next objective was winning over the crew. When they showed up, she had hot coffee ready and freshly made croissants with a spread laid out to appeal to anyone's pallet. There was swiss cheese and ham, sliced apples and pears, cinnamon butter, almonds, pastry cream, chocolate ganache, and a mixed berry sauce. As she predicted, it was an instant hit. She could practically hear their squeals of delight as they laid eyes on what she had prepared for them. They all ate before setting up, and Monica used that time to get to know everyone. They were effusive with their compliments. Each one telling her that this was their favorite shoot they had ever been on. As far as Monica was concerned, this was the best morning ever.

When it came time to set up for some establishing shots and recording B roll, she had built such a strong rapport with everyone, that they listened to her advice when she told them where they should set up their cameras. She pointed out all of the natural light coming in the large picture window in the front of the lobby and how perfect it would look to film the menu on one of her beautifully decorated tables. She ran through her menu with the producers and the director had his lighting and audio technicians in the kitchen, where she could hear their shock and awe at how clean everything was. She felt like it was a dream. Monica Geller, soon to be TV star thanks to her spotless floors!

But then Joey showed up, and he opened his mouth, and he had to ruin everything.

"Come on Monica. I really need your help here. If you can make me look really good in front of her father, then we can tell him about us when we get back to L.A." Joey was pleading with his hands as he stood before her, imploring her with his entire body for help.

Monica folded her arms in an attempt to appear stoic in her disapproval. "Joey. Why now? Why today? This is really important for the restaurant."

"Mon, you don't have to worry about that. You know I am going to rave about your food. Even if I don't like it."

Monica's eyes went wide with indignation. "What do you mean? Are you saying you don't like my food?'"

"No! No! Of course, I like your food. I love your food. I'm just saying if I don't like this food. I'll act like I do. Watch." Joey closed his eyes as a blissful expression fell across his face and he began to rub his belly.

Monica slapped him on the arm. "Fine. I'll talk you up to her father." Monica looked around the room. "Which one is she?"

Joey pointed at a young woman, who looked to be ten years younger than him, which caused Monica to roll her eyes almost immediately. She had long, flowing, honey blonde hair and a tight figure. She dressed casually in dark jeans and a white button-down top that was untucked in the back. She was filling out some paperwork on a clipboard she was holding while she directed some members of the crew around the room to collect equipment.

"Her?"

Joey let a smile spread across his lips. "Yeah. Her."

"Wow. Not bad. So, uh, did you meet her in high school?"

"What?"

"She looks like she's twenty!"

"I know she's a little younger than me, but I really like her. Plus, she's hot. And, she's younger than me, which means, she'll stay hot for longer."

Monica shuddered and quickly dismissed her aggravation at his shallow observation. She then looked at the woman one more time and tilted her head. "Huh. You know, she kind of looks like Rachel."

'What? No." Joey looked at his girlfriend one more time. "Definitely not. She looks like Erin."

"Who's Erin?"

"She is. That's her name."

Monica rolled her eyes as she shook her head.

"Mon, you know I wouldn't do this if it wasn't a big deal for me. I never ask you to do stuff like this. Ever."

"Yes, you do!"

"What? Name one time!"

"What about the time you had me go with you on that double-date with Angela and Bob."

"Who?"

"Who! The guy you told me was her brother but was actually her boyfriend!"

"What are you talking about?"

"It was like, twelve years ago."

"Joey shook his head. "Why are you bringing up the past now?"

Monica huffed. "I swear Tribbiani, if I didn't need the exposure from your show today, I would…" Monica, unable to form her thoughts with words, simply raised her hands up as if she were going to choke him.

Joey stepped back and flashed her a fearful expression, but then smiled and tried to turn his eyes up; pleading with her wordlessly, looking like a puppy.

Monica let out one last grunt and shook her head. "Fine. I'll help you."

* * *

Joey held up a piece of fried chicken and smiled as he looked up at the camera. "Monica, I have to say, this chicken is amazing. It's the best chicken I ever had."

Monica allowed a smug smirk to flash on her lips. "Thanks Joe. It's one of our more popular dinners. People can't get enough of it."

Joey took another bite and let out a moan of pleasure. "I could eat this all day."

"I knew you'd like it."

"No, really, do you have any more of it?"

"Uh…"

The director raised his hand and yelled "Cut!" giving Joey a moment to swallow his food.

"We just need a few minutes to reset the camera in the back for dessert."

Joey nodded as he wiped his mouth. "Sounds good Mike."

The producer walked over and reached out to shake Monica's hand. "This is going well Monica. Your food looks great, very photogenic. And the camera really loves you."

Monica gave off a bashful smile and shrunk into her shoulders. "Oh, really? Thanks Wayne. I guess I just have a glow about me when I'm on TV."

Joey nodded. "Of course the camera loves you, Mon. You're hot."

Joey's demeanor became nervous as he caught Wayne, who raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. He turned his head towards Monica and put his arm around her. "I mean, I can say that because we used to date, right?"

Monica's eyes flashed confusion and she squinted at Joey, trying to understand what he was talking about. "What?"

"I'm just glad this isn't awkward."

Monica pointed out towards the cameras set up about the lobby of the restaurant. "Uh, being on camera? I guess it's a little…"

Joey laughed as he cut her off. "No, not that. Being so close to me after I had to reject you."

"What?"

Joey gestured with his head towards Wayne. "You know, how you and I dated and you thought I was such a good and responsible guy that you wanted to raise the twins with me."

"What!"

He turned to look over at his producer. ""Sadly though, I had to turn you down, I couldn't do that to Chandler. Because I'm also very loyal."

Monica wriggled out of Joey's grasp and turned to face him. "What!"

"Uh, I couldn't do that to you either, because of how much I respect women."

Monica grit her teeth and tried to hold back her frustration. "Joey, I don't think that is how it happened."

"Sure it is. You told me you always wanted your children to be brought up by a celebrity. As much as I think you and I would have been great together, I had to do the responsible thing."

A woman's voice cut through the air, causing both Joey and Monica to turn. Erin angrily called out "Joey!" as she stormed over towards him.

Joe began to nervously run his eyes around the room. "Hey, uh, what's up lady I work with?"

Erin pointed at Monica. "What's going on here? Did you two date? Is this why you wanted to shoot here? Are you not over her?"

"What? No. I'm not even attracted to Monica."

Monica's eyes flared up as she shoved her hands onto Joey's chest. "What!"

Joey, Monica and Erin began to overlap their voices as they shouted at each other. Wayne closed his eyes and pinched the edge of his nose as he counted to three internally. He raised his hands in the air, gesturing for everyone to calm down.

"What is going on here?"

Monica waved her hands in surrender. "Enough! I can't take this anymore." She turned to face Wayne. "Joey is dating your daughter and thought that ridiculous story would somehow win you over because he wanted to impress you and make sure you approved of him."

Wayne's brow wrinkled up in confusion. "But I already know they're dating."

Joey turned to look at his producer as his eyes widened incredulously. "What?"

"I would have to be an idiot not to know about you two. You stopped sleeping with the interns. No one has complained about you hitting on them in over a year. You spend more time with her on set that you do with anyone else. I mean, if this was supposed to be a secret, you two were not good at hiding it."

Joey looked at Monica and then over to Erin. "Oh. Uh. And you're not mad."

"Joey, I'm not mad. You're a good guy. All this craziness right now aside. If anything, you being so terrible at lying actually makes me like you more."

"Oh man, that is such good news, because I was so worried. All I kept thinking about was, what am I going to do if the father of the woman I love doesn't like me."

Erin stopped and dropped her clipboard on the bar. "Wait. You love me?"

Joey turned around to look at Erin. "Well, yeah. I thought you knew that."

"How am I supposed to know if you never told me."

"Didn't you hear your dad. I don't hit on anybody at work anymore."

Monica leaned over and elbowed Joey in his ribs. "or anywhere else, right Joe."

"Right! Oh man. Yeah. Erin, I love you."

Monica watched as Joey and Erin embraced and shared a kiss. Wayne waved everyone off and called for a ten-minute break in filming, telling the director that they could reset from the kitchen and shoot the last segment in there. Monica slumped over and leaned across the bar with a dejected look on her face.

"You okay?"

Monica looked up as the director walked over to her. "What? Yeah. I just really wanted this to go well. I needed this to be special. We could use the exposure."

"Are you kidding me? I was rolling tape the whole time. We're going to edit this stuff in, and a show like this, with all the behind the scenes drama, that's going to air forever."

Monica perked up. "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, as long as Wayne approves of the final edit. The star of the show telling someone he loves them for the first time on camera? People are going to talk about this for years."

* * *

Chandler walked across the lobby and placed his hand gently on Phoebe's back. "I'm glad you guys could make it."

Phoebe nodded. "Oh yeah, we wouldn't miss this for the world." She looked around the restaurant and them back at Chandler. "Now, why are you guys having this party again?"

Chandler leaned in as he looked over at Monica. "Well, if you're near Monica, then the party is to celebrate the taping of the show. If you're standing next to Joey, then we are having a goodbye party for him since this is his last night in New York."

Phoebe nodded and Mike looked back-and-forth across the crowded restaurant between Joey and Monica.

"What if we're standing next to both of them?"

"Then you do this." Chandler grabbed a puffed pastry from the table next to him and promptly stuffed it in his mouth. "Mmpf. Mmm." He then pointed at his mouth and shrugged his shoulders.

Mike nodded and then gestured with his thumb towards the back of the restaurant. "You know, I went back in the kitchen before. Wow. Monica has this place neat and organized." He looked over at Phoebe. "Babe, we should really have Monica over to give you...uh...I mean us, some tips on organizing Fi Bea's room."

Chandler smirked. "What?"

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Mike is obsessed with organizing Fi Bea's bedroom."

Mike gasped as his mouth opened in disbelief. "There are toys and books all askew!"

Chandler raised an eyebrow. "Askew?"

"Yes. I spent all day labeling her bins and nothing ever goes back where it belongs."

Chandler looked at Phoebe and pointed at Mike. "Wait? You're telling me you like things neat and organized, plus, you're overly competitive?"

Mike shrugged his shoulders as Chandler started to laugh. Phoebe gave Chandler a gentle shove.

"What is so funny?"

"You married Monica."

Phoebe scoffed as she shook her head. "No I didn't. He's makes dorky jokes and dresses all preppie and likes musicals."

"So, you married me?"

Phoebe looked off as her face became stoic. "Oh no."

Mike looked over at her and put a reassuring hand on her arm. "What is it? Is it the baby?"

"No. I just realized that I married Monica and Chandler."

Mike laughed nervously, but then looked around the room until his eyes fell on Ross. "Uh, I'm not Ross though, right?"

Chandler tilted his head. "Do you like dinosaurs?"

"Not really."

"Then you aren't Ross."

"Ever since Jurassic Park came out, I could never look at them the same."

Chandler nodded. "Too scary?"

"No. When I was in eighth grade, I wrote a story about a dinosaur park. Then that movie comes out; they totally stole my idea."

"Phoebe. You might have married Ross too."

Mike paused for a moment and then reached into his jacket pocket. "Oh, Chandler; here's that tape I was telling you about."

Chandler snatched the tape from Mike and bounced from foot-to-foot. He became giddy and smiled. "Oh man! The Phantom of the Opera miniseries from 1990! With Charles Dance! I missed that when it aired. I can't believe you still have a copy."

"Oh yeah, I taped all kinds of made for TV mini-series back then. I have a whole box of them at my parent's apartment. I would watch these all the time when I was at law school." He looked at Phoebe who gave him a slightly sympathetic smile. "I wasn't very popular in college."

* * *

Joey looked across the room and watched as Mike handed Chandler a video tape. His face twisted up in a scowl as he saw Chandler start to dance in place.

"What the hell is that!"

A short man with long, dark hair looked over at Joey and took a sip of his drink. "I know. They're like best friends now."

"What?" Joey began to gesture wildly with his hands. "That's not possible. I'm Chandler's best friend."

"Hey, I'm Mike's best friend. How do you think I feel? I knew I should have watched more musicals."

"We gotta do something about this."

"I don't know. They both like Paul Williams. How do you stop something like that?"

Joey started to quickly point back-and-forth between the two of them.

"You know what we should do. We should become best friends. Give them a taste of their own medicine."

"Yeah! That's a great idea. Then they'll see what they're missing out on."

"Damn right!" Joey turned to face the other man and shook his hand with a firm grip. "My name's Joey, pal. Who are you?"

"Manny."

"Okay, so, uh, what kind of stuff do you like to do Manny?"

"Uh, I like movies."

"I like movies too! We're already getting along."

"Great. Hey, you know, tomorrow the Village East Cinema is showing all three extended cuts of the Lord of the Rings movies. You want to go?"

Joey quietly looked at Manny for what felt like an eternity with an expressionless face.

"Have you met Ross yet?"


	34. Funny Bunnies

**Funny Bunnies**

Jack raced across the hallway, tugging at his shirt and ripping it off as he giggled his way through the house. Chandler pursed his lips as he leaned forward and tried to follow his son's path as he scurried into the den. He then looked down at Erica, who was sitting next to him on the couch.

"That's not a good sign."

"Chandler! Where's Jack!"

Monica came rushing down the stairs and began to look around, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"I turned around for a minute just to grab the bunny outfit and he was gone."

"That was probably your first mistake. He's naked now." Chandler brought his finger up to his chin. "You know, I'm pretty sure I've seen him naked more than I've seen myself naked."

"Thanks for the deep thoughts Aristotle. Now will you help me get his clothes back on. We're supposed to be at the mall in a half-hour to take their picture with the Easter bunny."

"Oh, no, no no. I got Erica and you had Jack. That was the deal. I distinctly remember you saying to me 'how hard could it be to get him dressed'."

Monica looked at the couch in the living room and gestured towards her daughter. She was sitting quietly looking through a picture book wearing a red dress with white polka dots. She had on a pink pullover hoodie that had floppy ears attached to the hood. She looked like a little bunny, peacefully bopping her head back-and-forth.

"That's not fair. You got the easy one."

"Easy? You know Erica doesn't like wearing dresses. It took me fifteen minutes just to get that on her."

Monica rolled her eyes. "Will you just help me."

"Fine." Chandler looked over and reached his hand out. "Erica, you want to come and help us get Jack dressed?"

"No."

"Do you want to stay here and read your book?"

"No."

"Do you want to say anything other than no?"

"No."

"Do you want chocolate chip cookies for dinner?"

"Yeah."

Monica shook her head. "Nice work. You just got outsmarted by a one year old."

Chandler scoffed. "Well, in my defense…she's almost two."

Monica handed Chandler Jack's pastel blue shorts with white polka dots. "Just get these on him. I'll go get his shirt and his bunny hoodie." Monica made her way out of the living room and climbed the stairs as Chandler gingerly walked across the hall to the den.

"Hey, buddy. How about we get dressed so we can all go out and take a family photo that nobody wants to take."

"I heard that!"

Chandler winced slightly at his wife's admonishing tone. He walked into the den and looked over to see Jack, who was completely undressed except for a diaper. He was holding a block in his hands and quickly slapping it side-to-side. Chandler couldn't help but laugh. His kids seemed to take turns going through a naked phase, and once Erica got out of hers, Jack started on his. They overlapped for about two weeks, and during that time, it felt as though the minute they got one kid dressed, the other one was already taking their clothes off.

Chandler dropped to one knee. "Okay Jack, now, I don't know why your mother likes to dress us all up like bunnies, and neither one of us likes it, but she's in charge. So, why don't you come over here and let me put your shorts on."

Jack turned around and tilted his head at his father, as if he were trying to figure out if this was some sort of trick. Seemingly convinced that everything was on the up-and-up, he started to crawl towards Chandler.

"That's it, buddy. We're just going to put some shorts on. Nothing wrong with that, right? No bunny outfit here. Just a nice pair of shorts."

Just as Jack reached his father, Monica entered the room waving the hoodie. "Okay, I got it." Jack looked up, and upon seeing the offending article of clothing, quickly turned around again and stumbled back towards the other side of the room.

"I think you scared him."

"What? I didn't scare him."

Chandler gestured towards the hoodie. "Maybe that did."

"Why would this scare him."

"Well...it's pink."

Monica rolled her eyes. "Boys can wear pink."

"His grandfather certainly likes to wear pink."

Monica shook her head as she tried to suppress a smile. "Look will you just get your son over here so we can get him dressed."

"Okay, but I don't think he likes the bunny outfit."

"Everybody likes bunnies."

"I don't know if that's true."

* * *

**September 2004**

Chandler stood up from the couch and looked over at his father. "I just need to make this phone call. I promise to be really quick. I just need to be on this conference call with my office. I'll just be a minute."

Charles Bing looked down at his grandchildren; both looked to be entering a slumberous milk coma after their mid-afternoon bottle.

"I'll be fine."

"Okay, because they can sometimes be fussy."

"I have experience with fussy babies."

Chandler gingerly walked towards the entranceway. "All right. Monica should be home soon too. And I'll be right in the kitchen."

"Chandler, look at them. They're hardly able to move. If I can corral twelve drag queens six nights a week into a semi-successful Vegas show, I'm sure I can handle two drowsy babies."

Chandler nodded and walked away. "I'll bring you back a soda."

He tried to step quietly down the hall, half intending to not disturb his children, and half to try and hear any noise that was happening in the next room. When he entered the kitchen, he pulled the chair out so he could sit with a clear sightline down the hallway. He fiddled with the phone in his hands for a moment, and thought about blowing off the meeting. He was nervous. This was going to be the first time he left the twins alone with his father since he resurfaced in his life and moved to New York.

Chandler tried hard to come to terms with this new development in his relationship with his father. He wondered why he left Vegas. Why he was here? How long would he stay around this time?

He remembered his conversation from the night before with Monica and shook his head.

"_You are going to have to trust him."_

"_I trust him."_

"_No, you don't"_

"_No. I don't."_

"_Well, do you trust me?"_

"_Of course."_

"_This is a good thing Chandler. You dad is making a real effort to be back in your life. You have to give him a chance."_

Chandler hung up the phone once his conference call was over and quickly made his way back to the living room, but stopped when he heard his father's voice. He peeked in to see Charles sitting on the floor between Erica and Jack, who both looked to be asleep. He had an old, small book in his hands that he was reading from as he spoke softly.

"…and when winter comes, I watch the snow falling from the sky. Then I curl up in my hollow tree and dream about spring."

Charles looked up as he sensed his son standing there and brought his finger to his mouth, gesturing for Chandler to stay quiet. He got up and moved into the hallway.

"They started to stir a bit, so I thought maybe if I read to them, they'd fall back asleep."

"Oh, okay." Chandler looked down at the book in his father's hand. "You, uh, just carry an old Little Golden Book around with you?" He chuckled lightly and smirked. "Travel the country putting babies to sleep? Do you have a bag full of these?"

Charles looked down. "Oh, this. No. This is the only one. It, well, it was yours. I brought it here thinking maybe you wanted to keep it for the babies."

"Mine?"

"Oh yes. 'I Am A Bunny'. You carried this everywhere when you were, oh, three or four. Back then, I had to read this to you ten times a day it seemed."

Chandler looked down. "I don't remember that. You've had this all this time?"

Charles looked down and nodded. "I didn't want it to get lost. I figured, maybe you'd want to give it to your own kids one day." He lifted it up and opened it. "Look, you even wrote your name inside. I thought, maybe when the twins get old enough, you can have them write their names in there too." He handed the book to Chandler.

Chandler looked down. "I can't believe you had this for all those years."

"Well, I couldn't forget my son...uh…my son's favorite book."

Chandler looked in at his children who were sleeping peacefully in their rockers and smiled.

"Maybe it'll be their favorite too."

* * *

Monica had finished pulling the hoodie over Jack's head and started to play with the ears to try and get them to stand up straight. "Okay, I think we might finally have it." She stepped back to inspect him. "You look so handsome Jackie."

Jack, as if understanding the compliment, smiled up at his mother and reached out for her to give him a hug.

"Okay, I don't want to wrinkle your outfit, but I can't say no to a hug." Monica gave her son a gentle squeeze and they both smiled in the embrace. She pulled back and ran her hand over the top of his head. "Now let's go find your father and your sister so we can go get these Easter pictures taken."

Monica picked up Jack, who fussed a bit but then leaned into her body as she walked into the living room. She stopped at the entranceway when she saw both father and daughter leaning back on the couch with their eyes closed. Erica was letting out tiny snores as she nestled up against Chandler.

She put Jack down and shook her head as she smiled. "Now what are we going to do Jack? I can't break up something this precious."

Jack looked up at her and then back at Chandler and Erica. He stood up and stumbled over to the couch, climbing up next to his sister and sat down. He leaned against her and closed his eyes. Monica shook her head.

"How can I argue with that?"

* * *

**February 2005**

Monica covered her ears with her hands as her eyes went wide. She looked at Chandler and shook her head. "I am going to lose my mind. Why are they still crying?"

Chandler rocked Erica back-and-forth in his arms and he shared Monica's weary gaze and shook his head. "They keep setting each other off. I told you we should have only kept one."

Monica tightened her lips in an attempt not to react to her husband's joke and then reached down to lift Jack out of his crib. Both children were wailing away, each one seemed intent on outdoing the other.

Chandler looked down at Erica. "They can't be hungry again, can they?"

"They just had a bottle forty minutes ago. I tried giving Jack more, but he refused it. I don't know what to do. It's almost five in the morning. I'm starting to forget what quiet and sleep are like. Do you remember sleep?"

"No. I actually think sleep might be an urban legend."

Monica sat down in the rocking chair. "Jack. If you stop crying right now, I promise not to be mean to the first girl you bring to the house." She tilted her head as her lips wrinkled into a frown. "Who am I kidding. I can't promise that."

"Maybe we should split them up."

"Chandler, I already told you we are not returning one of our children."

Chandler shook his head furiously. "Not that woman! I mean, we take them to separate rooms. Maybe then, at least if we get one of them quiet, the other one won't get them started up again."

Monica nodded. "Okay. That sounds good. You take Erica because she's the loudest and I can't hear my own thoughts right now and I think my brain crawled out of my skull and moved to Canada."

"Okay. When this is all over, remind me why we did this again, because I am starting to think kids, not worth it. I mean, we could have just gotten a turtle or a goldfish. Something that doesn't make noise."

Chandler walked over to the changing table and grabbed two pacifiers from the shelf and then disappeared out of the room.

Monica began to rock Jack back-and-forth. "Okay baby. Let's settle down." She started to hum as she pressed her chin to his head. "Okay baby, that's good." She grabbed a pacifier and offered it to him. "Come on Jackie boy. I know all those new age baby books tell me I shouldn't give this to you, but books don't have ears and if and I don't see any of those snooty women who read them here right now."

Monica continued to try and offer Jack the pacifier. It seemed to be a battle of wills between mother and son. She would gently place the pacifier against his lips, he would turn his head away from it and cry, knocking it from her hand, she would catch it and try again.

"What can I do for you honey?"

Suddenly, Jack quieted down. He looked up at his mother and squirmed a bit, but then began to settle into her arms. He took the pacifier and began to suckle at it as his eyes fluttered. Monica perked her ears up, and noticed that the house seemed quiet.

"Jack, did you and your sister both stop at the same time? Does this mean you're ready to go back to sleep?"

She got up from the rocking chair and leaned over his crib. She started to gently place him down, but his face became red and he started to kick his legs as he grunted.

"Okay, okay. No crib. No crib. Mom has to pee, but she also can't put you down."

She walked out of the twin's nursery and slowly moved through the hallway until she reached her bedroom. She entered silently and looked over at the bed and saw Chandler lying down with Erica next to him. Upon seeing Monica, he quickly gestured for her to stay quiet.

"I think she's close to falling back asleep."

Monica gestured with her head towards Jack.

"He won't let me put him down and I need to use the bathroom. Can I put him in here with you?"

"Sure."

Chandler slid over towards the middle of the bed and lifted Erica up. He rested her on his stomach. She turned her head to the side and closed her eyes, still suckling on a pacifier he gave her.

Monica placed Jack next to him and Chandler wrapped his arm around him to keep him close to him on the bed. Monica walked backwards out of the bedroom as quietly as she could.

"I'll be right back to help."

Chandler looked back-and-forth as best he could between his two children. They seemed content as they looked to be drifting off to sleep. He watched them as they each sucked on pacifiers. He reached for the pacifier on the bed next to him.

"Well, if you guys are going to do it."

He placed it in his mouth and closed his eyes.

Monica walked back into the bedroom and stopped in her tracks. She smiled as she saw the first rays of sunlight coming through the window. It bathed her sleeping husband and babies in its orange glow. It was an almost magical sight, and she wanted to commit every detail to memory. Erica had lost her pacifier, but was smiling as she laid on his chest. Jack was nestled up against his body and Chandler had one hand behind his head.

She smiled at this perfect vision, and began to remove her robe so she could join them. As she started to climb into the bed, she looked closer and frowned at the pacifier in Chandler's mouth.

"I wonder what the books say about that?"

* * *

Chandler's eyes opened and he looked down to see both his children slumped up against him on the couch. He raised his arm to check his watch.

"Don't worry. I called ahead and moved our timeslot. We have about forty-five minutes before we have to leave."

He looked across the room and smiled. "Sorry, I guess she fell asleep and then I fell asleep."

"It's okay. This is still one of my favorite things to see."

"What's that?"

"You three sleeping like this. I think they only sleep this well when they're up against you like that."

Chandler looked down and smiled. "Really?"

"Really."

"So, have you just been sitting there watching us sleep?"

"I took some pictures too."

Chandler laughed. "How are we going to handle three babies?"

"How do we handler two? Plus, pretty soon, these two little bunnies aren't going to be babies anymore."

Chandler looked across at his wife and smiled. "I think they'll always be your babies."

Monica looked down and smiled. "Yeah. You're probably right."

Chandler closed his eyes again.

"They're always going to be your little bunnies."

* * *

A/N: This was something that was inspired by two pieces of artwork I saw on Twitter by archervale. They were just too adorable and I realized that not only were they the perfect inspiration for a "Mondler as parents" chapter, but that I also haven't written too many of these. I may try to write more of them, giving us little flashbacks to different times with the children which may not push the overall plot forward, but are hopefully satisfying to anyone who reads them.


	35. Rings

**Rings**

Chandler looked at Monica, who was standing on the other side of the entranceway to the ceremony room. He took a moment and allowed his eyes to travel up and down her body. He found himself doing this often. He didn't care. He couldn't help himself. She was gorgeous. She wore an off-the-shoulder, form-fitting dark purple dress that accentuated her neckline. She made sure to get a tan before the wedding and the result made her skin look like honey. It took all of his self-control not to charge across the room and place soft kisses along her jawline and down her neck. He followed a trail of freckles that led from her shoulder, down her toned arm, to her hands, which were gripped around a bouquet of flowers. They added an ethereal layer to the vision she struck before him. The curve of her hips was quite possibly his favorite part of her body. His hands seemed to fit them perfectly, as if she were made for him. He then glanced at her tan legs that led down to her adorable little feet, and he fantasized about later tonight, where he could pull off her heels and gently kiss his way up from the bridge of her foot, around her ankle, along her calf, and then pause at the sensitive part of her inner thigh. Enjoying her taste and the little moans that would escape her lips with each graze of his lips on her body.

"What are you staring at? Is there something on my dress?"

"What?" Chandler looked up and made eye contact with his wife, who looked concerned as she started to inspect herself.

"Is something wrong?"

"No." He chuckled. "No, I just…you look gorgeous."

Monica smiled as she blushed at his compliment. Her eyes sparkled and she took a moment to look back at her husband. He was strikingly good-looking in his tux. She loved to see him dressed up, a sight she appreciated even before they got together. He had the perfect shoulders for a suit, and it seemed almost any color he wore made his blue eyes pop just a little bit more than normal. She never understood why he had such insecurity about his looks. She had always thought that he was handsome with this understated sexiness that would go into overdrive when he would offer her one of his quiet smiles. Yes, he was sexy, even if it were despite himself. Especially lately, but she recognized that seeing him as a father these last two years has somehow made it more intense. The older he became, the more irresistible he was to her. These last few years he seemed to have found his perfect build. He was no longer so skinny that he would get lost in his clothes, but also not too bulky where everything was sloppy and untucked. Now, standing across form her in his tuxedo, he looked comfortable. Like he was born in it. Like he could wear it to bed. She also loved how he wore his hair now. It was short, but still long enough so that it wasn't too neat. It made him appear playful and was a visual reminder at how he has remained eternally youthful even as they both approach their late thirties. She liked him a little messy. She wanted him to remain imperfect, because it let her feel like he still needed her.

"You look very handsome."

Chandler smiled and looked down. "Can you believe we're doing this again. Another wedding?"

Monica laughed. "I know."

"I can't believe they made us travel for it. Haven't we done that enough?"

Monica shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Chandler. They wanted to do this right, and Boston was the only place they could do that."

"I guess."

"Anyway, look at you. You get to be a best man again."

"Well, you're the maid of honor. I bet you were surprised about that."

Monica nodded and looked at her flowers one more time, moving a petal as if it were out of place. "I was very surprised."

"I guess, since you helped out so much with planning this and you were so supportive, they wanted to show you how much they appreciated you."

"You think?"

"Or they just wanted to give me a chance to check you out in that dress."

Monica tried to flatten her lips and not give in to a smile which would only inflate her husband's ego. He knows how much she craves compliments, but she also knows, that he has always been sincere with his adoration of her. She could count on him to always be what she needed.

Suddenly, breaking the silence, and the mood, Chandler's phone rang. He looked up at her with slightly embarrassed eyes and covered his pocket with his hand in an attempt to muffle the sound. Monica shot him an admonishing glare.

"Chandler! You said you were going to turn that off! You've been on the phone all morning."

"I know. I forgot. We have this big presentation on Monday and they just want to make sure I sent them everything. Let me just see if something changed."

"Can't it wait until later. We're about to go in. You'll ruin the ceremony."

Chandler nodded in surrender and silenced his phone. "Okay. All right. But if I get in trouble for missing something important, I'm blaming you."

Monica shook her head and smiled as she gestured at him. "Will you please turn it off so it doesn't ring when they're saying their vows?"

Chandler reached into his pocket and powered off his phone. "Okay. It's off."

Monica heard the organ play and looked across. "Good, I think we're going in."

The doors opened and the two of them met each other halfway. Monica linked her arm inside his and he brought his hand up so that he could hold hers as they walked. He looked out at the guests sitting in their seats. He was always amazed at how many people show up at a wedding that you don't know. There were dozens of unfamiliar faces. It wasn't until he saw Jack and Judy Geller, sitting in a row close to the front, that he finally recognized someone. Monica was smiling, always aware that people were looking at her and when they were taking her picture. He marveled at how perfect she always looked in photographs. Her hair would fall just right and she was never caught blinking. Chandler on the other hand, would squirm and shift. He could never get comfortable.

Monica could feel Chandler becoming self-conscious and she lightly ran her fingers along the inside of his hand as she gave him a gentle squeeze. She knew she had to get him outside of his own head from time-to-time. He could fidget himself into a quivering mess if left unchecked. She knew how to calm him, how to help him refocus and let go of whatever was making the wheels in his head spin.

She looked up and saw the groom standing at the altar. He was shifting on his feet. It was amazing that after all this time, he was still nervous. These two had been together for a long time, but when she detected his nervous energy, she couldn't help but think that this must be love. That he was still concerned about everything being perfect for this moment. If anything, this should be the easy part of their relationship.

As Chandler and Monica reached the podium, he placed a soft kiss on her cheek and then stepped next to the groom. He gave him a slight bump on the arm and smiled, trying to instill some confidence, as Chandler felt like he suddenly had plenty to spare. The groom could only offer an anxious smile in return.

The organ music stopped for a moment, and the murmuring of the wedding guests quieted down. It became silent as all eyes turned up the aisle when the bridal chorus began to play. Chandler looked up as the bride-to-be came down the aisle and couldn't help but let a silent chuckle escape his lips. It didn't matter how many times he saw these two together, it was still a bit of a shock to him that this was actually happening.

He studied to bride's face for a moment, and his cynicism waned as he recognized the look of pure happiness on her face. It was infectious and he couldn't help but smile. He had no doubt in his mind that his face looked just like hers when he first saw Monica walk down the aisle at his own wedding. He remembered feeling confident and overcome by a sense of contented clarity that everything was going to be okay. He gave a glance at his wife, who he caught brushing her finger under her eye to stifle a tear, and he nodded. It didn't matter what the world threw at them. They were always going to be okay.

The bride sauntered a bit as she took her spot next to the groom. Monica couldn't help but smirk. If there was one thing you could say about this woman, it was that she was never shy about how she looked. She owned who she was and was unapologetic about it. She turned to look at Monica and leaned over to hand her the bouquet of flowers she was carrying. Monica smiled and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

"You look beautiful Helena."

* * *

Chandler stretched his legs out under the table as he watched his wife dance with his father and his father's new husband. He shook his head, lucid with the knowledge that there was no way he could have ever predicted this happening when he first moved across the hall from Monica Geller all those years ago. His life had taken some odd sharp turns along the way, but he had no regrets because it brought him here. He reached into his pocket and slipped out his phone to turn it on. He saw that he had three messages, but eschewed dialing up his voicemail, and instead called his home number to check on the kids and their babysitters.

"Hey! Ross? How is it going? Yeah, I know. Erica says the same word over and over a lot. I think she does it on purpose. What do you mean beat her at her own game? No, I wouldn't try to outsmart her. Ross, she's not even two. You're thirty-eight years old. Get some perspective! What did Rachel say about it? Well, I agree with her. What? I am not on her side, I'm on nobody's side. If you mean telling you not to get into a battle of wits against a child, then technically, I don't say it all the time. I only said that once before when you wanted to buy Ben that Harry Potter book and that kid took the last one. What? I don't always throw that in your face…you know what? I have to go. We'll call you later from the hotel. Okay, bye."

Monica looked over and saw Chandler hang up his phone and place it on the table. She narrowed her eyes, trying to send him scolding thoughts from across the room, but knew she failed as she watched him fix himself a cup of coffee, completely unaware that she caught him on the phone again. She wanted to walk over there, but she was having too much fun. Part of her thought about dragging him out of his seat and forcing him to join her, but he was fairly adamant about avoiding a dancefloor full of drag queens while a Madonna song was playing. Something about bad memories from his days subbing in for his father's dancers during rehearsals when he was a teenager. She shook her head, at least she got him to agree to dance with her during a few of the slow songs.

She turned her head back to her dancing partners. Helena Bing and Mitchel Garibaldi. She smiled at their exuberance as they worked themselves into a frenzy. Mitchel smiled at her and leaned over to talk to her over the loud music from the DJ.

"Thanks again for all your help."

"Oh, no problem."

"Really! You were so organized and you got everything to look so amazing on such short notice. You're a marvel at this kind of stuff."

"Oh, I wouldn't say marvel." Monica looked down and feigned modesty but then her eyes went wide. "Or you can say it if you want. You know, Helena actually said it was genius, but I guess marvel is good too."

"And thanks for being our maid of honor."

"Oh, no problem, I'm just sorry we couldn't get anyone from your family here in time. Maybe if we pushed the date back…"

"It wouldn't have mattered. My family didn't want to come."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, we haven't exactly been on good terms since, well, since I left for Vegas."

Monica noticed a flash of remorse fall across Mitchel's face and she reached her hand out to give him arm a reassuring squeeze. "Well, we're your family now."

* * *

"Hey son. Checking in with the kids?"

Chandler looked up at Jack Geller and nodded. "Yeah, everything seems to be going okay."

"Of course it is. You have two great kids there." Jack sat down next to Chandler and started to look over the empty plates. "You know, when Monica and Ross were that young, they fought all the time."

"Really?'

"Oh yes. I remember one time, we left them with Judy's cousin so we could go to the Poconos. Back then, everyone knew booking a weekend in the Poconos meant that you wanted to have sex again. Not the kind of sex you have when there are children in the house, if you know what I mean."

Chandler's lips wrinkled up into a frown. "I'm afraid I do."

"Anyway, Monica took a coffee can and threw it at Ross. They had to take him to the emergency room for stiches and we had to come back from our trip early, and I was just about to do this technique called the Piditaka position. That's where the woman puts her knees on your chest and…"

"You know, talking about sex doesn't have to be our thing. We could talk about the stock market, or sports, or nothing. Talking about nothing could be our thing. We should try that."

Jack looked across the table again and shook his head. "Did you get the chicken? I should have ordered the chicken. I think the prime rib is giving me heartburn."

Chandler shook his head. "Oh wonderous discomfort. How I missed you."

"Oh, who is she?" Jack gestured towards a woman dancing a few feet away from them.

"I don't know. I think she might work with my father."

"She looks like Rita Hayworth. I bet if I get Judy another Chardonnay, I can talk her into a threesome."

Chandler shuddered and mimed bringing a gun to his head as Jack got up from his chair.

"I'll see you later son."

"Sir, wait. That woman, uh, you probably should know…uh…" Jack looked back at Chandler inquisitively and then Chandler shrugged his shoulders. "You know what? You'll find out on your own. Good luck sir."

Jack smiled and nodded as he jogged across the room excitedly. Chandler looked down at his phone and picked it up to listen to his voicemail. He took a sip of his coffee as he waited for the message to play and he froze for a moment, but then let a smile form on his lips. He let loose with a relieved chuckle.

"I thought you weren't going to use your phone until after the wedding."

Chandler looked up and saw Monica standing over him. "Well, technically, this is the reception."

Monica folded her arms and tapped her foot. Chandler smiled and guided her to sit down next to him.

"Okay, but you have to listen to this."

"Chandler, can't this wait until we get back to the hotel."

"No, I just…"

"Not to mention it's rude."

"Monica."

"And whatever it is can't be as important as your father's wedding."

"Babe. Just listen to me for a minute."

"It's bad enough I can't get you to dance with us…"

"Woman. Will you listen to this message!" Monica shot her husband a shocked look of indignation. Chandler softened his tone and gestured apologetically as he handed her the phone. "Just listen to the message."

Monica shook her head and brought the phone to her ear as Chandler sat back. She gave him one more disapproving frown, but it did not last long as her eyes went wide and her lips curled up into a smile. She reached out and grabbed his hand as she nodded along before putting the phone down on the table.

"We're getting our baby?"

Chandler nodded and smiled. "We're getting our baby."

Monica sprung up and landed in his lap as she wrapped her arms around him. She hugged him close and buried her face in his shoulder as she let out a watery chuckle. Chandler held her tight and kissed her softly on the side of her head.

"We're getting our baby."

**End of part 2**

* * *

A/N – We kind of came full circle here as this started out with Monica's pregnancy being confirmed and ends with them finding out that they were picked by another birth mother. Part 2 took place over the course of a year and this chapter occurs at the end of April, 2006. I'm trying to keep the timeline in this story synced up with the real world so when I do another Thanksgiving, it'll actually be Thanksgiving.

I'm going to take a little break from this story while I do some maintenance to previous chapters and work on some other stuff while I come up with ideas to fill out the next chapter of their lives, but it will involve the twin's birthday, Ross and Rachel getting married, Monica and Chandler meeting the new birth mother, exploring what is going on with Jack, Phoebe giving birth to her second child, more holiday's, and hopefully everyone will come along for the ride.

As always, thanks for taking the time to read.


	36. A Day in the Life

**Part 3**

**A Day in the Life**

**May 11****th****, 2003**

Ross carefully walked through the labyrinth of noisy, reckless children who were running wild inside the warehouse that was converted into a kid's birthday party venue. He stepped over soft plastic blocks and rubber balls that bounced haplessly across the room. He danced past watchful parents in hopes to avoid bumping into them as they stood in vigil, monitoring their children who were jumping on trampolines and inside inflated bounce houses. He shook his head disapprovingly. He swore to himself that he would never book a birthday party for Ben in a place like this, especially when there were so many museums that they could have visited instead. As far as Ross was concerned, eight was the perfect age to start broadening one's horizons beyond bounce castles and ball pits. He couldn't fathom why they were here when Manhattan was an amusement park of scholastic adventures waiting to be explored.

Ross paused in the middle of the room and smiled as he fondly remembered his first trip to The Museum of Modern Art back when he was Ben's age. While his parents frowned a bit at his request, hoping for him to show interest in something more athletic, they dutifully acquiesced to their favorite child's demands. He was overwhelmed by the exhibits. He felt as if he could have spent hours at MoMA, long after it closed. Regretfully, it seemed that his son was not going to follow in his father's footsteps. Something he felt he could only blame on Ben's mothers.

He always felt like he was in a cold war with Carol and Susan over exactly how to raise Ben and what interests they should inspire him to take up. Often, the two of them would encourage their son to make his own choices before Ross could intervene and offer up his opinion. He had no doubt that was why Ben picked a party venue that would have him jumping, running, and bouncing all afternoon. When Ross finally caught wind of where his son's birthday was going to be, and he tried to steer him towards a more educational theme, Carol and Susan brushed him off and told him to let Ben have his fun. It struck Ross so odd. He would have assumed the gay couple would be the one who would want to infuse some culture into their child.

Suddenly, a purple, soft block hit him on the side of his face, shaking him from his reverie. He looked around in stunned umbrage as he rubbed his cheek.

"Who threw that!"

He narrowed his eyes as he saw both Rachel and Phoebe pointing at each other. He shook his head, realizing it would be a fruitless endeavor to try and ascertain which one of them was the guilty party. Instead, he turned his eyes forward and focused his attention on Chandler, who, was staring wistfully at a baby in a stroller that was next to him.

Ross watched as Chandler began to make faces and blow air from his lips in an attempt to entertain the infant. He seemed to get frustrated that it wasn't working, so he started to flap his arms about and bob his head, which made him look like he was imitating a chicken. It forced a chuckle from Ross's lips and he thought about how lucky a baby would have been to have such a silly man for a father. Then he frowned and silently cursed whatever force was cruel enough to make having a baby almost impossible for Chandler and Monica.

It wasn't fair. There may have been a few times, early on, when he doubted Chandler's ability to be the kind of man that his sister would need him to be for them to ever possibly spend the rest of their lives together, but now, those doubts were long gone. Chandler was the one. They were perfect together. They no doubt would be amazing parents. His sister so organized and in control. Chandler's total lack of awareness at how ridiculous he could be. The child would basically be raised by Mary Poppins and Peter Pan. What kid wouldn't want that?

Ross swiveled his head about trying to see if he could find Monica, yet, he could not locate her. He wondered if perhaps being around all these children so soon after receiving their devastating news was too much for her and she simply had to leave the room, overwhelmed by grief and frustration. He wondered if Chandler was simply trying to maintain a brave face for the two of them so no one else would suspect their melancholy.

When he first found out that they couldn't have children, he had wanted to visit them, or at least lend a sympathetic ear, but Chandler had kept everyone at arm's length for the first few days after he had told them what their fertility test results had revealed. Then, with Ben's birthday fast approaching, the Barbados trip to plan for, and a keynote speech to write, Ross simply could not find the time to stop by their apartment and check on them. He was stunned they were both here. It was over a month ago when they first accepted their invite to the party, long before their doctor's appointment; there would have been no hard feelings if they backed out after everything they had been through. They never asked. Here they were, faithfully celebrating his son's birthday.

He took a few more moments to watch his brother-in-law struggle to make the baby next to him react to his elaborate gestures. His movements were becoming more demonstrative and absurd. Ross decided that maybe Chandler needed some rescuing, or at least, the baby did. He stepped closer to him and flashed him a weak smile. He saw that Chandler noticed him walking over and he looked at him with sympathy in his eyes. Chandler took one more glance at the baby in the stroller and then hopped over to meet Ross halfway. Ross took a deep breath, unsure of what to say.

"Hey."

"Nice party." Chandler looked back at the baby. "Some of your guests though can be real stiffs. I was giving that kid some of my best stuff."

Ross chuckled and looked around. "I'm glad you guys came, but you know you didn't have to, right?"

"What?"

"You know. With everything going on."

"Oh. Right." Chandler looked down and a slow smile formed on his lips.

Ross looked around again. "Where's Monica? Was this too hard for her? Did she have to leave? Did she need a good cry? I wouldn't blame her…"

Chandler started to laugh, cutting his brother-in-law off. He placed his hand on Ross's shoulder for support as he doubled over. Ross's eyes widened as he started to get annoyed at Chandler's over-the-top display of amusement.

He finally gave Chandler a light shove. "What's so funny?"

"I…just…you…" Chandler started to cackle loudly as he leaned against Ross.

"What? I'm worried about my little sister you jerk."

Chandler finally composed himself, straightened up and wiped a tear that his convulsive laughter had squeezed out.

"I'm sorry. It's just, man, you really don't know Monica, huh? You think she's depressed and ran away to be alone?"

Ross scoffed. "No. Well, yeah. Why is that so strange?"

Chandler rolled his eyes. "Here, I'll show you."

He gestured with his head for Ross to follow him, and Ross, with incredulous eyes, shrugged his shoulders and walked behind Chandler.

"Okay, you have to promise not to say anything because Monica wanted us to tell all of you later when we got back."

"Tell me what!" Ross began to seethe again, hating to be left out of the loop when it came to his sister.

Chandler spun around and put his hand over Ross's mouth. "Will you shh! And calm down."

Ross, mumbled underneath Chandler's hand and pointed at it as it was still covering his mouth. "I do not like this."

Chandler removed his hands and gestured for Ross to keep his voice down.

"We decided to adopt."

"What! That's great!" Ross grabbed Chandler and hugged him roughly.

Chandler rolled his eyes and shook his head at his brother-in-law's boisterous behavior. "Thanks for keeping your cool."

Ross released him and backed away. "I'm sorry, it's just, wow, that is so great. Have you guys already started looking into it?"

"Are you kidding me? She's already given me three books to read on the plane ride to Barbados."

Ross nodded and laughed. "Wait, but that doesn't explain where she is."

"I'll show you."

Chandler turned and walked over to a clutch of trampoline courts. Ross followed and could hear excited yelling, enthusiastic squeals and the slap of a rubber ball as it hit its target. He wrinkled his brow in confusion, and he tiled his head as he heard a familiar voice taunting people with loud shouts.

"Come on kid! I can do this all day."

He peered into the court and saw Monica coil her arm up as she threw an oversized, red ball, which crashed into a young kid's leg. The ball bounced back towards Monica and she snatched it up with one hand. She gestured with her thumb towards the entrance to the park.

"You're out too Ginger, why don't you go join Mary Ann outside and you can cry to Joe."

The kid, no more than fifteen, rubbed his leg where the ball had hit him. "Joe? Joe who?"

"Joe Momma! Who's next?" She pointed at a fair-haired teen who seemed to be shaking under her aggressive stare. "You want some Red?"

Ross looked back across and saw three more teenagers who looked to be covering their faces in fear of being her next victim on the court.

Ross turned to Chandler and gestured towards Monica with a confused look on his face.

"She's been in here for forty-five minutes. Some older kids walked by and made a comment about this being a party for babies. They said something about playing dodgeball and before I knew what was happening, Mon was talking trash and challenging them all to a game."

"And you didn't stop her?"

Chandler gestured back towards the birthday party. "Hey, at least she isn't Joey. He's been stuck in the foam pit since we got here."

Ross looked over and nodded somberly. "Yeah, we probably should get him out of there."

Chandler waved him off. "Ahh, he'll be all right."

"What about Monica?"

"Well, as long as nobody presses charges after this, she'll probably be done in time for cake."

Both men winced as they heard Monica bellow loudly again.

"You're out Red!"

Chandler turned to Ross.

"Maybe she'll be done sooner than that."

* * *

**May 11****th****, 2004**

"Oh! There are my new grandbabies!" Judy Geller rushed across her living room to meet Monica and Chandler as they attempted to work the new double stroller through the door.

Monica, watching her husband struggle with finding the right angle to fit inside, shook her head. "I told you we should have taken them out first."

Chandler rolled his eyes and Judy quickly grabbed the front end and helped them bring the stroller into the house.

"Jack! Erica and Baby Jack are here!"

Monica looked at her mother. "And Monica and Chandler are here too."

"Of course darling, but we see you both all the time! Now give me those babies."

"Okay, just…"

Before Monica could finish, Judy had unbuckled Jack and pulled him into her chest as she cradled him. "Hello Jack. I'm not going to let you go. You're staying right here with grandma all day."

"Mom!"

Chandler leaned over to hush his wife. "Shh. Maybe she doesn't remember how much these things poop. I could use a break."

Monica shook her head as her father bustled into the foyer. "Erica!" He undid her strap and pulled her close to him. "Come with me baby girl. Have I shown you my collection of 45s? I have every Motown single released from 1965-1968."

Chandler looked at Monica. "Does he think she works for a record label or…"

Monica looked down at the empty stroller. "I say we let them keep Jack and Erica and we leave right now. I bet that Best Western we saw on the expressway has a room available. We could be asleep in thirty minutes."

"Hey! You made it!" Ross looked down at the empty stroller and then back up at Monica and Chandler. "Uh, I know you two are new at this, but you're supposed to bring the babies in with the stroller."

Monica mocked laughter and narrowed her eyes at her brother. "Ha, ha. Mom and Dad got them."

Ross laughed and reach over to give her a quick hug. "Oh, okay, well how was traffic?"

"It was fine. I just still have a hard time remembering where Mom and Dad's new condo is. Is there enough room in here for Ben's party?"

"Yeah, but it'll just be family. I promised him I'd take him to a water park this year with some of his friends instead of a big birthday party."

"Is he here yet?"

"Yeah, Carol and Susan are up there in the living room with Rachel and Emma. How are you guys?"

Monica and Chandler looked at each other and exhaled.

"Exhausted."

"Hungry."

"Tired."

"A little crazy."

"Sleepy."

"I never know what time it is anymore."

"Drowsy."

"A little smelly."

Monica snapped back as she looked at Chandler. "I am not smelly."

"From the spit up."

"Well, change your shirt once in a while."

"Why? So they can spit up on a clean shirt. Oh no my friend. I'm on to their game. They won't rest until all my shirts smell like sour milk."

Ross bit his lower lip pensively. "I take it that means it's going well."

Monica laughed. "It is. I mean, it isn't. At all. But we're getting into a groove. Right Chandler?"

"Sure, if by groove you mean losing my mind. Then we are definitely in a groove."

Ross chuckled. "It gets easier."

Monica grabbed him by the collar. "How do you know that! What if it never does!"

Ross uncurled her fingers and winced as he felt some of his skin get pinched in her grasp.

"I thought you were getting into a groove."

"I lied!"

"It's twins Ross! Twins!"

"I know Chandler…"

"We haven't had more than two hours of sleep."

"Let alone time for, you know, canoodling."

Monica turned to face Chandler and shook her head. "I told you, we will have sex again when they are old enough to have their own apartment."

Ross turned around and gestured for them to follow him. "Well, word of advice, take advantage of mom and dad. I know whenever I needed to write a paper, I'd just come see them and they'd play with Ben while I got a few minutes to myself."

"That's a good idea."

Monica nodded. "Maybe I can take a nap."

"Or have a hot meal."

"Oh, and coffee that didn't go cold."

Chandler widened his eyes and turned Monica to face him. "We could have sex!"

"Chandler, if you can do it without waking me up, then go for it."

Ross shook his head. "My little sister everybody."

* * *

**May 11****th****, 2005**

"Oh Monica! Let me see!" Rachel rushed towards Monica as she entered the restaurant.

"See what? There's nothing to see. I'm only about eight weeks pregnant."

Rachel waved her hands in front of her eyes as an attempt to stifle tears.

"I know. I just need to look at you. Are you glowing yet?" Rachel glanced at Chandler. "Is she glowing yet?"

"Uh…."

Monica shook her head and chuckled. "Rachel. Please."

"I think you're glowing." She hugged Monica tightly and then wrapped her arm around her as she led her to the table.

"I guess I'll just wait here."

Monica looked over her shoulder and let out a silent laugh at her husband before turning back towards Rachel. "Honey. What are you doing?"

"I'm just so happy for you. And excited. I can't believe it! You're going to have a baby!"

Monica smiled a she looked down at her stomach. "Neither can I."

"How did it happen?"

Monica pointed over at Emma who was sitting in a booster seat. "I think you already know how it happens."

"No, I mean, did you guys do anything special…or…"

"We just had a lot of sex."

"Ooo. What's that like?" She then pointed at Monica's stomach. "I'll tell you, if this kid is anything like Emma was when she was two, you might as well just put a closed sign on it, because regular sex is not happening."

"Thanks Rach. I don't know what bothers me more. Hearing about my brother having sex or hearing about my brother not having sex."

"Oh I can't wait to give you all my old maternity clothes and see you get fat again."

"You really know how to bring a party down Green."

Rachel laughed and shook her head as she pulled out a chair. "Have you guys thought about names yet? Oh, do you think the baby will get your hair? I hope so. Oh, and maybe Chandler's eyes…."

"Rach!"

"What?"

"Look, I know everyone found out when my brother blurted it out back at the opening, but I kind of want to wait a bit before we start looking at colleges, okay? At least until the second trimester."

Rachel nodded. "Okay, okay. Well, how do you feel?"

"Tired. Nauseous. Dizzy."

"Yeah, I remember those days. Make sure you sit down when you get dizzy. I fell down once and freaked out until my next doctor's appointment."

Monica nodded as she watched Chandler walk over and smile at her as he took a seat across from her. She then looked around the table.

"Where's Ben?"

"Oh, Carol and Susan are bringing him. They aren't here yet. He's having a big party this weekend, but Ross wanted to have a family dinner with him on his actual birthday."

Monica looked around. "Here? I mean, it's a nice place, but not exactly somewhere a kid would eat."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I know. I think Ross forgot what it was like to be ten."

Monica looked around once more. "No, actually, this looks like the kind of place he would have picked out at ten."

"Oh, we have to plan a shower!"

"Rach, please. Let's slow down, okay. I just want to get to twelve weeks first."

"Okay, but you have to register early if you want to still get clothes from the fall line."

"The fall line? We're talking about a baby."

Rachel reached over and touched Monica's stomach lightly. "A fashionable baby."

"Monica smiled and chuckled. "It is nice to get all this attention."

"Oh, you have to milk that honey. You need to make Chandler do whatever you want. Wait on you hand and foot until this baby is born."

"You know I can hear you, right?"

Rachel turned to look at Chandler. "I'm not talking to you."

"But I can hear you."

Rachel turned back to Monica and Monica shared a glance with Chandler as they both smiled and shook their heads. A quiet conversation between husband and wife with just a few facial expressions.

"Who's going to be the godmother? Do not say Phoebe!"

* * *

**May 11****th****, 2006**

Ross dropped a stack of pizza boxes down onto the table in his parents' dining room. He spread out some paper plates and looked over at Carol and Susan.

"Okay. I think I bought every pizza on Long Island. If this isn't enough for Ben and his friends, then we may have to have them checked for parasites."

Carol chuckled as Susan shook her head. "Ross, Ben's a growing boy. He's eleven. If you think he eats a lot now, wait until he is a teenager."

Ross grabbed his stomach as his face turned green. "Don't remind me. In two years, I'm going to have a teenager. How the hell did that happen."

Carol and Susan both shared a smile as they glanced at each other. Susan stepped towards the door to the basement and ran her hand across Susan's shoulder.

"Okay, I'll go get the kids. Ross, why don't you set up the pizza for the adults in the kitchen."

"Fine. Fine."

Ross walked into the kitchen and felt a buzz in the air as Rachel, Chandler and Monica were in the corner speaking low. Their smiling faces and nervous body language belied their hushed tones. Ross walked over and leaned in with a smile on his face.

"What's going on?"

Monica leaned into Chandler and he wrapped his arm around her.

"Okay, don't tell anyone yet, because we wanted to wait to announce it later, but, well, we got a call from the adoption agency and…"

"A girl in Texas picked us!" Monica clapped her hands together as she cut her husband off.

"Really? Oh wow, that's great. Congratulations. Wow. Three kids. Stupid, but great."

He reached over and gave his sister a hug.

"So, how far along is she, when do you guys get to meet her?"

Chandler looked down at Monica and she nodded. "Well, she is only in her third month, and she is very young, so the family decided on a closed adoption."

"What's that?"

Monica squeezed his hand and smiled. "It just means we probably won't meet the mother. We'll just get a call telling us when we should go down."

"Yeah, and things can still go wrong, she could decide she wants to keep the baby…."

"Baby!"

All four of them turn and see Ben standing in the entranceway of the kitchen. He looked frustrated as he stared at his aunt.

"You're having another baby!"

Ross stepped towards his son and smiled. "Adopting Ben. You're Aunt Monica is adopting another baby. Isn't that great news?"

"Well, yeah, I guess, but why does she always have to do this on my birthday?"

"What do you mean."

"Every year all we ever talk about is Aunt Monica and her babies. She keeps….I don't know…stealing my thunder."

Rachel blurted out a laugh, but quickly quieted herself when Monica shot her a stern glare. Monica then walked over and leaned down to talk to Ben.

"Oh, honey, I'm not….." she paused and looked off to the side. "Ah, who am I kidding, that's right. I finally stole someone else's thunder. Me."

"Uh, honey, you know your talking to an eleven-year-old, right?"

Monica waved her husband off. "That's just how it is now Ben. Who knows? Maybe next year, we'll announce your Uncle Chandler is pregnant. The first man to get pregnant, on your birthday!"

Chandler started to look at everyone with shock and horror in his eyes. "What? Why? Why?"

Ben started laughing. "That would be funny. His belly would get all big."

"I know. That would be funny."

"I didn't agree to this."

Monica looked back at her husband and chuckled. She then turned back to Ben.

"I'm sorry that it always seems like this stuff happens on your birthday Ben. We don't mean to steal your thunder."

"It's okay I guess."

"Yeah?"

"Sure. I love my cousins, and this just means that I get a new one every year."

Chandler looked nervously at Ben. "Uh, not every year kiddo. I think we're stopping at three."

Monica laughed and then reached out for a hug. "Thanks for being such a good sport about this."

Ben hugged his aunt and smiled. "You're welcome. Hey, maybe I'll get to meet my new cousin on my next birthday."

"Well, maybe sooner than that. I don't know if I can wait a whole year to introduce our new baby to his amazing cousin Ben."

Ben turned and started to walk out of the kitchen with a slice of pizza in hand. "Yeah. You're right. That wouldn't be fair. I am pretty amazing."


End file.
